


Beneath Their Masks: Half-Baked

by Mazanica



Series: Beneath Their Masks [5]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Abuse and neglect, And all types of abuse are in this story okay, Anthro AU, But otherwise it's full of cliches, Cliches like the unpopular kid is rich and the popular characters fall for the unpopular characters, Depression, F/F, Friendship, Future themes of violence, Hinted noncon, Hurt/Comfort/Angst, Like there's no heterosexuals at all in here, M/M, Maybe hints of Mike/Jeremy, Original/Toys, Other, Romance, Suicidal thoughts/themes, This story has a really dark part, Transgender Agender Mangle, Yaoi and Yuri, explicit noncon, highschool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazanica/pseuds/Mazanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion Piece, Chica and Chii's side.</p><p>--</p><p>"Chica" Sanchez has loving family and friends. She's musically gifted, is an excellent chef, and she's sporty so it isn't much surprise that she's well liked around school. When she and "Chii" Kain become lab partners, she doesn't complain despite not liking the more feminine chicken. However, almost immediately she discovers that they have much more in common than either of them had thought, and it isn't long before she realizes that something in Chii's life isn't okay. She takes action; she won't just watch as her new lab partner's life shatters into pieces too small to gather.</p><p>Chii liked to think she was fortunate compared to her friends, and because of that she does her best to be their shoulder to lean on. Her aversion to physical contact makes this difficult but she does her best. Then she becomes lab partners with the last person she ever wanted to be with, and she hates that they have so much in common despite their contradicting lives. As she becomes fonder of her new partner and her friends, she finds her world opening up- but with her world opening, it all starts falling apart and she isn't sure she's strong enough to hold on through it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to Beneath Their Masks: Half-Baked! If you’re looking at this, well, I can honestly say I’m surprised but pleased. This is a Companion Fic to Behind Their Masks: The Golden Rule, Guitar Strings, Pirate’s Life, and Lyrical Harmony!
> 
> These fics are all the same “story” told from the perspective of different couples and, in case you failed to notice, these are all GoldenSpring and Original/Toy, but the pairings are most evident in their own fics. It’ll be a while until any pairings happen, though; first they all need to become friends.
> 
> Warnings: RATED M FOR FUTURE THEMES. Homosexuality, bullying, cliques, transgender issues (DMAB-Agender Mangle), sexual themes, sexual abuse & rape, physical, emotional, mental abuse, parental neglect, severe depression and suicidal themes/attempted suicide, chronic nightmares and night terrors, this story will get very dark at one point.
> 
> Pairings: Chica/Toy Chica (Chii), Goldie/Spring, Bonnie/Toy Bonnie (Blu), Freddy/Toy Freddy (Alfred), Foxy/Funtime Foxy (Mangle)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of the characters!

She didn’t know why she jolted awake so suddenly. In the dark of her room, she frowned up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had woken her up. After a few moments, she noticed it; from her night table, her phone was vibrating.  
  
Sitting up, the chicken reached over and picked the phone up, looking at the screen. It was a brown bear, a small grin on his flushed face as he gave the camera a mock salute. The name Alfred read underneath the picture and she didn’t hesitate to answer.  
  
“Hello?” she greeted, her voice groggy with sleep.  
  
“Chii,” was the simple response she got. Yep, definitely Alfred.  
  
“What’s up?” she asked, stretching as best she could with her phone in hand. A glance at the clock showed it was nearly eleven. Alfred knew she always went to sleep around nine on Sundays so she immediately began to feel worried. “What happened? There’s no way you’d be callin’ me this late just because.”  
  
“Dad was drinking again,” her friend informed her. Chii frowned.  
  
“Oh…” She slid out of bed and walked over to her bedroom door, flicking the light on. Her room was full of pinks and purples and blues. “Need somewhere to crash tonight? Mother and Charlie are out tonight so they’d never know.”  
  
“Thank you,” Alfred said, incredibly grateful. Chii smiled a bit sadly, knowing her friend wanted to say more but couldn’t. It was strange, but Alfred had been like that for as long as Chii could remember.  
  
“Of course,” she told him, heading out of her bedroom and down the hallway, towards the door connected to the living room. “I’ll unlock the front door for you. Are you alright, Alfred?”  
  
“Yes,” Alfred answered, then added, “I ducked. My homework is not.”  
  
Chii sighed softly, flicking the lock. She opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop, looking down the street lit by streetlights. Neither she nor Alfred spoke, but she could hear him mindlessly humming softly to himself. That could be either a good or bad sign- he hummed when he was thinking, he hummed when he was happy, he hummed when he was stressed, he even hummed when he was hurting or sad. It was one of the ways she and the others read him when he couldn’t get himself to speak or tell them something.  
  
His humming didn’t sound pained or sad, but it wasn’t a lilting, uplifting sound either. He must be in thought, then.  
  
A person turned onto the street, a bookbag slung over their shoulder, and she smiled when he was close enough to make out the brown fur and rosy cheeks. Chii smiled and lifted a hand in greeting as Alfred hurried over to her, giving her a small smile that said more than any of his words ever could.  
  
Both of them finally hanging up their call, Chii let him inside the house and closed the door, locking it again. She studied him carefully as they headed to her room, noting with satisfaction that he wasn’t limping or bleeding. That was an improvement from the last time he came to her seeking refuge.  
  
“Spring’s not home, is he?” she asked as she closed the door to her room, throwing the lock just in case her parents got home earlier than expected.  
  
“No. Concert, remember?”  
  
“Right,” Chii nodded, going over to her bed and dropping down. Alfred had taken a seat at her desk, unfazed by all of the stuffed animals sitting on the desk behind her laptop and on shelves and the bed. Of course he’d be unfazed; pretty much all of them were years of birthday and Christmas gifts from him and their other friends. Chii loved cute things and wasn’t allowed to have a pet and stuffed animals were something all of them could afford, so almost every gift-giving event they gave her stuffed animals. She loved every single one of them, almost-eighteen or not.  
  
Actually, she mused as she picked up a stuffed penguin, she was pretty sure the only time they didn’t get her stuffed animals was when they had pulled together to buy her a keyboard. They had all done similar things for the others. Two years before with her, it was a keyboard, which was currently sitting in the school’s music room. Last year with Alfred it had been a new violin, which he kept at their friend Spring’s house. With Mangle about three years before, it had been a simple drumset, which was also at Spring’s house. Four years ago it had been Blu and his guitar. This year, Chii, Alfred, Blu, and Mangle had finally saved up enough to get Spring a brand new acoustic.  
  
It took longer to save for Spring’s… considering everyone else’s gifts had been paid for in majority by Spring. But they had finally saved enough money and stashed it all under a loose floorboard in Chii’s closet. Just over five hundred dollars in cash. It wouldn’t get anything fancy but that was alright; Spring wasn’t big on fancy, anyway. It was enough.  
  
“You seem to be thinking,” Alfred noted, getting the chicken’s attention. She smiled at him.  
  
“Oh, I was just thinking about Spring’s birthday. It’s in a couple months now,” she explained with a small smile.   
  
Alfred nodded in understanding and Chii looked at her phone again, frowning. “Actually, I wonder how Blu’s doing,” she wondered aloud.  
  
“We could call him. He’s probably awake,” Alfred said, shifting slightly in his seat and pulling his essay out. Chii noticed the brown stain on the corner and frowned, but she said nothing. Instead, she pulled her contacts up and hit Blu’s name, watching as the picture of the rabbit, sitting upside down on an ugly floral couch and laughing at her, lit up her screen.  
  
She figured she wouldn’t be getting to sleep anytime soon, anyway.

* * *

“Chica! It’s time for dinner!”  
  
The chicken hummed a bit and slid her last binder into her bookbag. “Alright, mom!” she called back in Spanish, slipping off of her bed and walking towards the door. She flicked the lights off as she left and hurried down the stairs at the end of the hall.  
  
Her mother and father had just finished setting the table when she reached the dining room. She slid into her chair, across from her dad, and smiled. “Hey,” she greeted.  
  
“Hey, Francisca,” her father returned, reaching forward and lightly nudging her cheek. “How’s our little chef today?”  
  
“Dad, I’m almost eighteen,” Chica laughed, lightly smacking his hand away.  
  
“No way, you’re turning sixteen this year!” her father declared with a laugh.   
  
“You’re being silly, both of you,” Chica’s mother laughed as she settled down next to her husband. “You excited for your last year of high school?”  
  
“Yeah,” Chica confirmed, smiling at them. “I can hardly believe it, though- feels like only yesterday I was starting high school!”  
  
“Feels like only yesterday you were starting pre-school,” her father corrected with another laugh, shaking his head. “At this rate tomorrow I’ll be walking you down an aisle!”  
  
“I think not, dad,” Chica scoffed, sticking her tongue out. “Romance is so not my thing, ya know.”  
  
“You’re young,” her mother admonished, laughing softly. “I was the same way, but you’ll meet the right man one day.”  
  
 _Man_. Chica wanted to laugh at that. She knew her parents loved her and would accept her no matter what, but she just didn’t know how to bring it up. _Hey, mom and dad, I know you’re hoping I find a good rooster and marry him and have kids, but I think I’m into hens so I don’t think you’ll ever be grandparents_? Yeah, right. Her mother would cry. Both of them would tell her it was alright, that nothing was wrong with her and they loved her, but Chica knew her mother would cry and she didn’t want that.  
  
So, instead she gave her mother a smile and said, “I know, mom. I just have to meet the right person.”  
  
Her parents either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the neutral word person as they continued eating and talking about the weather. Chica ate her dinner and listened contentedly, looking around the living room.  
  
The dining room was open into both the kitchen and living room. From where she was she could see many pictures hanging on the walls of the living room, most of them of herself and her parents but a few were group photos with her friends. There was an oddly blank area on the wall that she was sure had once contained her elementary school graduation pictures; now, she knew, it was reserved for her high school graduation photos. And there was enough space that she knew some of it was reserved for her friends, too… because where Chica was, her friends were sure to be.  
  
She smiled. Chica loved how close her family was to her friends’ families. She’d heard all too often in the hallways how hard it was for friends to do anything together since their parents were at odds or didn’t know each other but she never had that problem. Her parents coordinated with the Fazbear, Henderson, and Jones parents to make sure they got to spend as much time together as they wanted. Hell, sometimes even all of their parents came along on trips, like they were all one huge family. It was nice.  
  
Before she knew it, dinner was finished and she helped her father rinse the dishes off and put them into the dishwasher. Then she went up to her room to doublecheck everything was ready for her first day of senior year.  
  
At least, that had been her plan. When she entered her room, though, she heard her phone ringing- _A Pirate’s Life_ was playing. _Geez, Foxy_ , she laughed silently to herself, turning the light on and grabbing her phone off of her red comforter. She barely glanced at the picture of Foxy wearing an eyepatch and sticking his tongue out at the camera as she answered.  
  
“What’s up?” she greeted as she usually did, sitting down on the bed.  
  
“Lass!” Foxy sighed, “I been tryin’ to call you for the last five minutes!”  
  
“I was eating, Foxy,” she snorted, lying down and staring up at the ceiling. “What’s up?”  
  
“Mama and mom said I could invite all of you on a trip to New York with us,” Foxy told her. “At New Years. They’ve both already put in requests for holiday vacation and we’re gonna go watch the ball drop. You in?”  
  
“I’ll ask my parents but you know I’m totally in if they say yes. New York? Hell yeah, have you ever had New York food?” Chica laughed, her eyes trailing to a poster on her wall. Ironically, it was about a famous restaurant only in New York.  
  
“And I thought you were excited about France,” the fox snickered. “Awesome! I gotta call the others and tell them. Mama says she needs the answer by September, though, so she can book the flight and hotel.”  
  
“I’ll have it by then,” Chica agreed. “Hey, Foxy, you excited for tomorrow?”  
  
“I’m miffed about the schedule changes but yeah, senior year!” he cheered. “We’re almost outta here!”  
  
“Do you know where you’re goin’ yet?”  
  
“I decided I’m goin’ somewhere relatively close,” Foxy informed her. “Don’t wanna be too far from Mama and Mom, I can’t afford to fly back every month like Freddy and Goldie can. It’s that school up near the mountain range, I’m gonna double-major in history and music.”  
  
“Ha! Good luck with that!” Chica laughed, shaking her head even though the fox couldn’t see her. “You’re gonna be busy as all hell.”  
  
“Hey, two things I love, I can deal! What about you, still got your heart set on abroad in Paris?”  
  
“You know it,” Chica chuckled, looking over at her clock. “I was one of the accepted applications, so there’s a good chance I’ll be one of the seven selected.”  
  
“Well, lass, ya know I hope the best for ya,” Foxy said cheerfully. “You’ll be livin’ up the dream there!”  
  
“It looks like all of us are on track to our dreams, huh?” Chica asked, sighing a bit.  
  
“Yep. We’re all growin’ up,” Foxy agreed, his voice losing a bit of its energy. They fell into a short silence.   
  
“Well, we’ll always be friends no matter what, and we always have a place to come home to here in Durmont,” Chica finally said. “It won’t be forever.”  
  
“True that,” Foxy chuckled, a bit subdued. “But it’ll be strange, not seein’ your face every day, lass. Yours or the others’.”  
  
“Well, on a positive note, we won’t have to see the people from school ever again!” Chica pointed out, eliciting a guffaw from Foxy.  
  
“Oh thank goodness, that school’s full of some weirdoes,” he said and Chica was sure he was shaking his head. “Well, a lot of weirdoes really.”  
  
“True, very true,” Chica hummed. “But there will be things I’ll miss.”  
  
“Yeah… Like Mr. Fitzgerald. A man like that, heh, he’s got more talent in his pinky than most have in their entire bodies. What he’s doing teaching in a highschool…”  
  
“Yeah…” They trailed off again. “Well, I’m gonna go get a shower and head to bed, Foxy. You should call the others and tell them about New York.”  
  
“I should!” Foxy agreed. “Goodnight and sleep well, Chica.”  
  
“You too, when you get to it. Seeya in the morning.”  
  
They both hung up and Chica set her phone on her bedside table, sighing a bit. As excited as she was about being a senior, she couldn’t help but feel sad. This was the last year she would see her friends every single day of the year. After this, they would all be going their separate ways and becoming true adults, taking up responsibilities they had never had before. This was pretty much the last year of their childhood.  
  
 _Well then_ , she thought to herself as she slid out of bed, _better make the most of it._  
  
Unknown to her, as she slipped into her shower and turned the water on, in a small suburb across town another chicken climbed into bed, enjoying the silence and safety of her empty home that night.


	2. Beginning of a Long Year, Chica

“Francisca, wake up!” Chica rolled her eyes as she heard her mother call from downstairs. She was already standing in front of the full-length mirror in her room; her yellow feathers, washed and preened already, were in direct contrast to the blue tanktop and black capris she wore.  
  
“I’m already awake!” she called back, straightening her shirt. “I’ve been awake for two hours already,” she added with a snort, though she knew it wouldn’t carry much further than her door.  
  
“Well come down and eat breakfast!”  
  
“I’m coming!”  
  
Chica smiled at her reflection, amused. It was just a normal school day... except that it wasn’t. It was her last first day of high school and, potentially, her last first day of school in the United States. She felt simultaneously excited and nervous but, at the same time, indifferent. It was a weird combination of emotions.  
  
 _It’s like I’m expecting something_ , she mused to herself, grabbing her bag out of the chair at her desk. She hitched it up on her shoulder and walked out of the room, flicking the light out as she went, and headed downstairs. Tossing her bag on the couch as she passed, she went into the dining room and sat down in her seat, watching her mother set out plates for the two of them.  
  
“Where’s dad?” she asked, noting his empty seat.  
  
“Still sleeping, probably,” Mrs. Sanchez laughed, heading into the kitchen to grab the food. “After all, that rooster stayed up until one last night to finish up that chapter. Deadline’s next week, you know?”  
  
“I know, Mama,” she confirmed with a smile. “When he’s done writing do you think we can all take a trip to the beach before summer ends?”  
  
“Of course!” she agreed with a wide smile, dishing out the food onto Chica’s plate. “What about your friends? Would they want to come along?”  
  
Chica laughed; the answer was so obvious that she didn’t even need to answer. Her mother just laughed with her and sat down across from her, encouraging her to dig in. She didn’t hesitate to obey, enjoying her mother’s company.  
  
If there was one thing in the world Chica knew, it was that nothing could compare to the love shared between a mother and a daughter. She couldn’t even begin to imagine life without her mother, the hen who birthed her, bathed her, changed her diapers, taught her all about love and life as a young woman, encouraged her to break free from the binds of society and do what she enjoyed, supported her decisions in life- this hen who taught her everything she knew and loved her even when she made huge, avoidable mistakes. She similarly couldn’t imagine life without her father, the rooster who protected her when she was young and taught her how to defend herself so she wouldn’t need to rely on him when she got older. They were so supportive, so loving, and so understanding, and they even helped her apply to the culinary arts school in Paris despite their own reservations about letting her go. She didn’t want to do anything to hurt either of them.  
  
So she smiled as she ate breakfast and talked to her mother, and then she helped her mother clean up until Freddy called to tell her they were out front waiting for her. She gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbed her bookbag off of the couch, and ran outside.  
  
 _Yes_ , she thought to herself as she slid into the car next to Foxy, _life is good._

* * *

“I don’t think I’ll like gym this year. I can’t do half the things on this sheet.”  
  
Chica looked up from the phone in her hand to see Goldie leaning against the lockers, staring down at his physical fitness sheet in dismay. She rolled her eyes. “That’s what gym is for, Goldie,” she informed him with a snort, pushing away from the locker and leaning over to see the sheet over his shoulder. “The part I don’t like is the thirty-some odd students in the class.”  
  
“At least there’s two instructors,” Freddy cut in as he stopped beside them, getting Chica’s attention. He gave Chica a strange look. “Besides, Chica, you’re not even in gym, how’d you know there was thirty-something students in there?”  
  
“Foxy complained my ear off about it,” she told him with a dismissive wave. “Something about too many sweating Humans and Animals.”  
  
“Well at least today was just agenda and warm-up day,” Goldie sighed as he stuffed his sheet into his bag. “Looks like we’ll be making use of those stupid club memberships this year, huh Freddy?”  
  
Chica rolled her eyes as Freddy agreed. _Should have been making use of it all along, silly bears._  
  
“So gym will suck this year.” Chica turned her attention to Bonnie as he approached with Foxy, a grimace on his face. She raised a brow at him, wondering what could put such an expression on the normally-grinning rabbit’s face.  
  
“Something happen?” she asked.  
  
“I’ll say, I literally ran into one of those- you know, _those_ guys,” Bonnie answered, frowning sharply. “The annoying one.”  
  
“They’re all annoying,” Foxy snorted. “But I know which one you’re talking about.”  
  
Of course they did. Bonnie was easily annoyed by things he didn’t like and Bonnie didn’t like Springtrap’s “gang.” And in that gang was a loud, always-smiling, always-laughing clumsy rabbit.  
  
Well. Somewhat loud. Compared to the rest of that group. Compared to other students- well, not so much. But it was enough to grate on Bonnie’s nerves and make him Bonnie’s least favourite of them all.   
  
They began walking to their next class as the warning bell rang. “Well, at least it’s only Mondays and Wednesdays,” Goldie pointed out and Chica watched, amused, as the others nodded in agreement. “We have that stupid art class every day.” Chica grimaced at the reminder. _Yeah, whose smart idea was that?_  
  
“Yeah, why did we get switched into there anyway? It’s gonna be horrible,” Bonnie groaned as he pushed the door open and sauntered in, bee-lining to the desk next to the door. As Foxy sat down in the seat next to Bonnie, Chica briefly scanned the room.  
  
The desks were arranged into pairs. By the window, Springtrap’s group had already gathered and were laughing about something or other, but Chica didn’t care enough to bother figuring out what it was about. She frowned, unhappy to see them in this class, and sat down in the empty pair of desks next to Foxy.   
  
“Relax, it won’t be so bad,” Freddy assured them as he sat down behind Foxy.  
  
“Yeah, I think art’ll be an easy A,” Goldie agreed dismissively, glancing up at the ceiling. “But damn, gym- that teacher was rude as hell.” Chica raised a brow, wondering what had happened in the gym class. _Foxy didn’t mention anything like this_. “That warm-up is brutal and the teacher didn’t even care that a kid started having an asthma attack? Like geez, poor kid could’ve died.” _Oh. Well, geez._  
  
“Well, at least his friend was willing to just walk out with him, a good friend to have,” Freddy put in and Goldie and Bonnie both nodded in agreement. Chica didn’t add anything; there was nothing for her to say. “I wonder what goes on in this class.” Chica’s gaze slid over to the back of the room, where there were eight lab stations. From there she could see a basic chemistry set, but there was also an oven-like thing sitting on the far back counter.  
  
“Who knows,” Bonnie said with a shrug. “This definitely isn’t chemistry.”  
  
“Looks like chemistry will be part of it, though,” Chica said, nodding towards the back of the room. Her friends turned to look back there.  
  
After a few moments, they turned back around as Bonnie said, “Yeah.” His gaze went to Freddy. “So who’s gonna be whose partner this year?”  
  
Chica smirked a bit. _You have a choice of me or Foxy, Bon-Bon._  
  
“Whoever you want,” Freddy told him, clearly amused. “It’s not like I’ll be choosin’, ya know.”  
  
“I call dibs on Freddy,” Goldie added jokingly and Chica laughed with the others, shaking her head slightly. “But hey,” Goldie started, looking around the room. “looks like the other people in class are… uh… people none of us get along with. Huh.” He looked back at his friends.  
  
Chica glanced towards the back of the classroom where four humans sat, two talking happily and two sitting silently. _Oh yeah. They hate our guts. No go there._  
  
Before any of them could say anything, however, an unfamiliar, accented voice interrupted with, “Alright, then, settle down class.”  
  
Chica turned to look forward, towards the voice, to see a tall human with bright blue eyes and green-dyed hair. She blinked and laughed silently to herself- was this the science teacher? She wasn’t sure if she could take this guy seriously. _Green isn’t his colour._  
  
“I am Doctor Mike Schmidt and this year I am your science teacher,” Dr. Schmidt informed them and Chica had to bite her tongue. “This year, things will be different.”  
  
 _I’ll say_ , she mused, watched the doctor curiously. “In the past I know you have always been allowed to choose your own partners, but in my experience I’ve found there is a lot less messing around and procrastination when partners are assigned.” She lost her amused smile. Suddenly she found herself able to take this man seriously. _Is he about to…_  
  
“So this year, I will be assigning your partners.”  
  
No one said anything. Chica wasn’t sure if anyone even moved, there was absolutely no sound whatsoever. All of them just stared uneasily at the green-haired scientist.  
  
“I have already assigned everyone their partners and you cannot switch out partners,” Dr. Schmidt informed them, tapping his foot on the floor. “I have partnered everyone up for specific reasons, and this is the partner you will have all year long.” Chica frowned as he didn’t expand or even give any reasons at all. “You will sit beside each other in the classroom, when we are in the lab you will work together at your station, and you will be expected to work outside of the classroom as well.”  
  
 _Well this sounds brilliant_ , she told herself sarcastically, frowning at the man.  
  
“Basically, your lab partner in this class will be the person every assignment in this class, minus your exams, will be done with. Whether you call each other or meet up in person is up to you.”  
  
 _No duh!_  
  
Dr. Schmidt lifted his clipboard and made a few notes, humming softly to himself. Chica watched him; he was bizarre. And weird. “Alright. Gather your stuff, everyone. And stand back near the lab stations. You can choose your own seats, but you must be sitting next to your partner.”  
  
Chica followed her friends and classmates to the back of the room, glancing at the group of fidgeting, worried students that had somehow become rivals with her own friends. She wasn’t even sure how it happened, to be honest. One day in middle school they had all, bar Freddy, decided that the rabbit dubbed Springtrap and his friends were bad people. It might have had something to do with the skipped classes and incomplete or missing homework, but it might have also had to do with the fact that they were so blind to everything around them- blind or just plain rude and ignorant. It took them until highschool to even notice Chica and her friends were openly showing their dislike.  
  
And then they began returning it. Sometimes. When they paid enough attention to actually catch the scowls and sneers.  
  
They were opposites, as far as Chica knew, so disliking each other was way too easy. They had nothing whatsoever in common. They had never exchanged a single word for as long as Chica could remember, just aggressive or mocking looks, but Chica knew she didn’t like them.   
  
Especially the other chicken, whose wardrobe seemed to consist of dresses and shorts and pink and lavender and wore makeup and it was just all sorts of things Chica herself couldn’t stand. She was the _epitome_ of girly and Chica refused to believe in _anyone_ who fit so perfectly into a stereotype.  
  
(On some level she _did_ realize that the other chicken wasn’t quite a perfect stereotype; she had no other female friends and was the exact opposite of popular despite her“prettiness,” but she chose to ignore that fact. After all, presentation was everything, and she presented a very feminine, stereotypical-girl facade.)  
  
“Alright now,” Dr. Schmidt’s voice interrupted her thoughts, drawing her attention to the front again. “First, Bonito Rodriguez and Bonnie Henderson.”  
  
 _Oh. Well_. She watched as both rabbits, glaring at each other, made their way towards the desks closest to the door. _That looks like a perfect combo, Dr. Schmidt. Let’s see how long it takes for them to try and kill each other._  
  
“Marion Marshal and Malesha Jacks.”  
  
Both names were distantly familiar to her. She watched them take the pair of desks in the back by the window. _Chances are growing thinner_.  
  
“Freddy Fazbear and Alfred Fischbach.”  
  
She watched the two brown bears silently make their way towards the seats by the door, taking the ones in back. _Freddy’s leaving a gap between himself and Bonnie… must be Goldie’s seat._  
  
“Vivien Blanc and Drew Jones.” Chica glanced over at Foxy as he let out a growl, but he made his way to the pair of desks next to the gap. “Leah Stuart and Jackie James.” The two humans high-fived with a quiet cheer and went to the front row desks by the window. “Frederick Fazbear and Spring Salvage.”  
  
 _Ouch,_ Chica mentally sighed, hardly glancing at the golden-furred Animals as they made their way to the desks between Bonnie, Foxy, and Freddy. Instead she looked at the only remaining classmate with a frown and made her way to the front center desks.  
  
“Francisca Sanchez and Charlotte Kain,” Dr. Schmidt finished off as both girls were taking their seats. Chica glanced over at her friends, frowning; all of them were doing the same.   
  
Bonnie, catching her gaze, leaned over and whispered, “This blows.” Chica barely got a chance to nod in agreement before the rabbit was straightening up.  
  
“Mr. Rodriguez, turn around please,” Dr. Schmidt called. “Now, I know all of you know each other-” this was answered with a snort and Chica glanced back at Goldie, “-but this is my first year at this school and I don’t know any of you. So, I want all of you to fill out this questionnaire about your partner, which you will then read aloud to the class.”  
  
 _Fuck that_ , Chica thought as she took the questionnaire page and passed it back to Foxy. Her eyes scanned over the questions.  
  
 _My New Lab Partner!_  
  
 _Name:_  
 _Nickname(s):_  
 _DOB:_  
 _Places You’ve Lived:_  
 _Future Plans:_  
 _Interests/Hobbies:_  
 _Favourite Colour:_  
 _Favourite Band/Musician:_  
 _Phone #_  
 _Cell:_  
 _Landline:_  
  
It was generic, typical, boring, and full of information she didn’t give a damn about. She glanced over at the smaller chicken next to her. Their eyes met and held for several silent seconds before, simultaneously, they scowled.  
  
“We can fill out our own,” Chica told her, turning away from her. _I refuse to talk more than necessary_ , she thought.  
  
“Here here,” Kain’s soft, bitter answer sounded. Chica didn’t even give her a glance this time. She noted down her name and nickname and then scrawled out January 7, 99 on her birth date line. Behind her, she could hear Foxy and Blanc already getting into an argument.  
  
There was a soft humming next to her and she briefly glanced at Kain, who wore a sharp frown as she stared at her page. _Annoying_ , Chica decided quickly, writing out _Chihuahua, Mexico_ and _Durmont_ on her own sheet. _Oh my god, just shut up with the humming!_  
  
Quickly writing down s _chool in Paris_ , she moved on to interests and hobbies. That was easy. _Cooking, friends, family, music, sports._ Behind her she heard “ _Did you just call me mangey?_ ”  
  
 _“Yes, I did. It’s much better than Mangle, don’t’cha think?”_  
  
 _Foxy’s being an idiot again_ , Chica thought with a mental sigh, rolling her eyes. _Favourite colour? Blue._  
  
 _“Hey, are you-”_  
  
 _“Future. Plans.”_  
  
That voice was filled with so much venom that it actually caused Chica to pause. She would have looked over, if only to see how Bonnie would react, but next to her Kain sat up straight and leaned forward, looking around Chica and Bonnie towards Rodriguez. She glanced over at Kain, noting the worry on her face. She was gripping her (disgustingly pink) pen too tightly, staring over at her friend. Around the room, others continued to talk, completely unaware of the tense, dangerous air between the rabbits.  
  
The moment passed as Bonnie finally answered and apparently something in that assured Kain as she relaxed with a quiet sigh and sat back in her seat, eyes going back to her page. Her frown didn’t fade.  
  
It took Chica a moment to realize she was glaring at the chicken. She turned her own gaze back to the questionnaire, frowning. _That was weird. She looked really worried_. Absently, she noted down _Charlie Daniels_ and, a little more hesitantly, _(223) 346-7612_. She crossed out the landline; her family didn’t even _have_ a landline. _I wonder what Bonnie did to piss Rodriguez off like that._  
  
 _He probably breathed too loudly._  
  
But then… _“Hey, are you-”_... _What was he about to ask? “Are you okay?” Did Bonnie actually say something that upset him?_ _Really thinking about it, I guess he_ did _sound upset. I dunno. I guess I’ll ask Bonnie later_.  
  
She sighed and dropped her pen on the desk, leaning lazily on her hand. The room had devolved into relative silence, with the exception of the two girls- _what were their names? Leah and Jackie?_ \- who were talking about things Chica herself had no interest in. She glanced at her friends. Bonnie was, strangely enough, watching Rodriguez, Goldie looked bored and irritated, and Freddy wore a sharp, thoughtful frown. She couldn’t see Foxy, seeing as he was directly behind her, but she could imagine his scowl easily enough.  
  
 _Freddy looks conflicted_ , she noted. She wondered if Bonnie wore a similar expression. She glanced back at her own partner, whose eyes were closed. She was leaning against her own hand, much like Chica was. Her eyes flicked down to the questionnaire lying by Kain’s arm.  
  
 _I am curious, though… how will this year play out?_

* * *

 _My New Lab Partner!_  
  
 _Name_ : Charlotte Kain  
 _Nickname(s)_ : Chii  
 _DOB_ : January 10th, 99  
 _Places You’ve Lived_ : Durmont  
 _Future Plans:_ Culinary school in Paris or Rome  
 _Interests/Hobbies_ : Cooking, music, being with friends  
 _Favourite Colour_ : Lavender  
 _Favourite Band/Musician_ : Jan J  
 _Phone #_  
     _Cell_ : 346-9890  
     _Landline_ : -


	3. Beginning of a Long Year, Chii

She woke to the sound of the shower running. Sleepily turning over, she stretched her arms above her head and sat up, blinking into the darkness of her room. The other side of her bed- which wasn’t much, mind you, as she slept in a twin- was cold; Alfred had woken up some time before.  
  
Slipping out of bed, Chii let out a yawn and headed over to her closet. She knew Alfred woudn’t take long at all so she wanted to go ahead and be ready for when he finished. She gathered her clothes for the day- a cute purple tank top and jean capris- and waited for Alfred.  
  
A few minutes after the shower turned off, there was a soft knock on her door. “It’s safe!” she called, standing up off of her bed. Alfred slipped back inside, his clothes in his arms. “I’ll get you a bag for those, you can come by later to pick them up,” she added. Alfred nodded slightly and gave her a soft smile.  
  
“Thank you, Chii.”  
  
“Never a problem!” she chirped as she passed him to go to the bathroom herself. The air was warm and wet and she flicked the vent on. None of her friends ever used the vent and it used to drive her crazy but she had long since adjusted.  
  
Closing the door and dropping her clothes on the counter, she tugged the straps of her nightie down and let it fall to the floor. She picked it up with her foot and kicked it over to the basket, cheering quietly to herself as it landed in the bucket. “Score one for Chii,” she murmured quietly to herself, reaching into the shower and turning the taps on. Quickly removing her last layer, she slipped in and closed the curtain, enjoying the feeling of the water on her feathers.  
  
It felt nice to feel safe again.  
  
She let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes, just letting the warmth wrap around her. She couldn’t linger, though; she wanted to have enough time to make lunch for herself and all of her friends, after all. So she grabbed her soap and made quick work of her feathers, humming happily as she did so.  
  
It took only ten minutes to thoroughly wash and rinse her feathers and when she stepped out of the shower, the air smelled strongly of lavender. It wasn’t her favourite scent but it was the only scent she had at that moment and it beat sweat. Grabbing a towel, she began vigorously rubbing her feathers dry, then she picked up a grooming tool and began straightening out the feathers she had no control over, such as the ones on her head and face. She hummed all the while and then grabbed her eye shadow and blush.  
  
The feathers on her cheek had a red tinge to them that made it look like she had a natural blush- unlike Alfred and Blu, both of whose blushes were natural and strong enough to show through their fur. Mangle’s “blush” was similar to Chii’s in that it was their fur that was a different colour there, but Mangle’s showed up more in contrast with the white and pink of their fur, looking darker than Chii’s. That didn’t change the fact that Mangle loved adding to it and the chicken giggled to herself.  
  
Chii made quick work of the blush, just doing a few touch-ups to her cheeks, and then began meticulously applying the pink eyeshadow. It was specially made for feathers so there was no problem there. Once she had finished this, she grabbed her eyeliner and mascara and began applying them as well. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup- even Mangle wore more than she did and Blu enjoyed going all out when they were all at Spring’s house, away from the prying eyes of parents and classmates- but she did wear enough that it was noticeable.  
  
Nodding in satisfaction, she set her makeup down and opened the door again, heading back to her bedroom. When she entered the room, Alfred looked up and gave her a smile.   
  
“Mangle messaged,” he told her simply, then added with a little more difficulty than she knew he would have wanted, “They will be here.”  
  
“Awesome!” she cheered, smiling at him, but she couldn’t help but feel worried. In her opinion, Mangle had the shortest end of the stick, with what their parents did to them. Alfred looked like he was trying to say something and Chii knew what he was wanting to say. She didn’t want to hear it, so she said, “I’ll make some lunches to go for all of us.”  
  
She turned around and headed back down the hall before he could make any protests, frowning silently to herself. She purposefully didn’t look back for a response, knowing already that he would tell her that he was fine, that he needed nothing, but she knew for a fact that he wouldn’t have eaten dinner the night before. Not if his father had been drinking all evening. He would have been hiding out in his room, looking over his homework or his next journal submission.  
  
Upon arriving in the kitchen, she grabbed two large bowls and set them on the counter before peeking into the fridge to see what they had.  
  
Chii’s family didn’t eat meat, so she’d have to come up with something else for Mangle. Thankfully Animals had a long time ago separated themselves from the dietary needs of their ancestors and cousins, just like humans had shed their ape-like needs, so it wouldn’t be _too_ hard.  
  
“Mangle likes strawberries and grapes but they don’t like lemons or oranges,” she hummed to herself, grabbing fruits out of the fridge. “Spring and Blu both dislike mangoes, so no mangoes for them, and Blu isn’t fond of tomatoes… so maybe a fruit salad for Mangle and Blu and a normal salad for Spring with some tomatoes mixed in?” She hummed in satisfaction and nodded, setting the needed materials aside. “And for Alfred, hm… well, he isn’t fond of salads but he likes stir-fry… or maybe some fried rice? Yeah, that sounds good, think I’ll make some for myself too!” She began pulling out more foods from the fridge and then grabbed a skillet from a cabinet, setting it on the stove.  
  
She knew she was thinking out loud. It was something she often did and she knew it bothered other people, but her friends didn’t mind and that was what mattered. “I should do the salads first,” she decided with a small nod. Then she smiled. “I’ll put snacks in there, too! We have some cake on the table…”  
  
She bounded over to the table and smiled. There was a simple strawberry-topped cake sitting there with buttercream icing and vanilla bread. _That’s Blu’s favourite_! Grabbing five small containers from their spot on a counter, she opened them and made five decent-sized slices to put in each container. Not big, not small. Closing the containers, she left them sitting on the table and returned to the actual lunches.  
  
It didn’t take long for either the salads or the fried rice to be ready, and soon she had five containers of food ready to go. She slid them, along with the cakes and wrapped plastic forks, into a single bag that she could carry on her shoulder. To anyone else it might look like a large, gaudy purse but she knew better and her friends knew better and that was all that mattered.  
  
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts and she hurried over, peeking out the window. A white and pink fox stood outside, their black bookbag hanging from one shoulder. They were wearing a red turtleneck-tanktop and baggy dark jeans. _Typical Mangle._  
  
Chii opened the door, smiling. “Hey, Mangle!” she greeted and the fox grinned back.”  
  
“Hey, Chii.”  
  
Everything was fine and Chii smiled. Nothing could ruin it.

* * *

”Advanced Senior Science, yeah? What does that even mean?”  
  
Chii let her gaze flick over to the whiteboard that her blue rabbit friend was reading. From the pair of desks beside hers, Mangle answered, “I think it’s lab-based. I glanced through the textbook on the way in, there’s a lot of different sciences in it. I saw physics, biology, and chemistry in my little… um, glance.”  
  
“You saw a lot of stuff for it being a glance,” Spring snorted from Blu’s other side and Chii giggled softly. “When’d you even do that? Weren’t you right behind us in the door?”  
  
“It’s called I paused, Springy,” Mangle deadpanned and Chii laughed with the rest of her friends. She adored them all so much, even the fact that she was sitting diagonally from “Chica” Sanchez couldn’t ruin the moment.  
  
“Well, duh. I was just-”  
  
“Alright, then, settle down class.” Chii blinked and looked towards the front of the room, smiling as she spotted green hair and bright blue eyes. The man standing there was at least six feet tall and he looked like a ball of energy, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet as he observed his class of fourteen.Chii knew she would like this man. “I am Doctor Mike Schmidt and this year I am your science teacher,” the man introduced himself. “This year, things will be different.”   
  
_Different how_? Chii wondered, biting her tongue to keep herself from thinking aloud. Teachers never appreciated being interrupted, especially when you were talking to _yourself_.  
  
“In the past I know you have always been allowed to choose your own partners, but in my experience I’ve found there is a lot less messing around and procrastination when partners are assigned.”  
  
 _Oh… Oh please don’t do this to us… please…_  
  
“So this year, I will be assigning your partners.”  
  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _Okay. Okay, it’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. It’s just schoolwork. We’re all pretty good about that, anyway… Oh god, I hope Spring and Blu are okay._  
  
“I have already assigned everyone their partners and you cannot switch out partners,” Dr. Schmidt continued. “I have partnered everyone up for specific reasons, and this is the partner you will have all year long. You will sit beside each other in the classroom, when we are in the lab you will work together at your station, and you will be expected to work outside of the classroom as well. Basically, your lab partner in this class will be the person every assignment in this class, minus your exams, will be done with. Whether you call each other or meet up in person is up to you.”  
  
 _This won’t be so bad, I’m sure_. She glanced at her friends. She couldn’t see Blu or Spring’s expressions but she could see Alfred’s frown and Mangle’s wide-eyed scowl. They weren’t taking this too well at all.  
  
“Alright. Gather your stuff, everyone,” Dr. Schmidt’s voice called after several moments of silence. “And stand back near the lab stations. You can choose your own seats, but you must be sitting next to your partner.”  
  
Chii hitched her bookbag and the bag with their lunches in it up onto her shoulder and followed her friends to the back of the classroom. Now she could clearly see how freaked out Spring looked. Blu looked pretty sick himself. She frowned worriedly and settled back against a lab station, behind the others. They waited patiently for Dr. Schmidt to be ready; she couldn’t see the man over Spring’s shoulder. He was much taller than she was, after all.  
  
“Alright now,” she heard Dr. Schmidt say, “First, Bonito Rodriguez and Bonnie Henderson.”  
  
She just barely caught Blu’s hiss and watched him move towards the pair of desks Henderson had immediately went to claim. Chii closed her eyes and took a breath. _So that’s how it’ll be, huh?_  
  
“Marion Marshal and Malesha Jacks.”  
  
 _There goes Marion, but I can’t say I recognize the girl_ … What surprise was that, though? She didn’t notice many people outside of her friends. She only recognized the “Fazcrew” because they had some kind of… rivalry-enemy thing going on.  
  
It was mostly one-sided but she agreed with her friends; she did not like them. She just wasn’t observant enough to respond to every gesture they probably made while Chii and her friends were absorbed in their own world, taking no notice of anything around them. Was that considered dangerous, not noticing when someone who hates you is nearby? Of course... but they all had much bigger concerns than some popular kids.  
  
“Freddy Fazbear and Alfred Fischbach.” She watched Spring and Alfred exchange a look before Alfred gently patted his shoulder and followed the larger bear to the desks two rows behind Blu and Henderson. Chii frowned. “Vivien Blanc and Drew Jones.” Mangle hissed but Jones _growled_. They made their way to the two desks to the left of the empty space between the bears and rabbits.   
  
“Leah Stuart and Jackie James.”  
  
The two unfamiliar humans high-fived and went over to the front window seats. Chii stepped forward so she was standing next to Spring, a sick feeling welling up in her stomach. _Please let us be together, this is already bad enough._  
  
“Frederick Fazbear and Spring Salvage.”  
  
Chii looked at Spring, wringing her hands, and he looked at her desperately, wide-eyed. She wanted to do something- say something- to assure him, but what could she say or do? _I’m sorry you’re partnered with that jackass?_ Yeah, that’d go over real well. However, before she could think of anything Spring had already begun moving towards the desks, sitting down between Blu and Alfred.  
  
She glanced at the other chicken in the room; she was the only one left. The magenta-eyed chicken barely glanced back at her before she rolled her eyes and began moving towards the desk in front of the foxes. Chii frowned but followed.  
  
“Francisca Sanchez and Charlotte Kain.”  
  
 _Little late, doctor._  
  
She glanced around the room. She was sitting in front of Mangle, but Sanchez and Henderson were separating her from Blu. Chii frowned sharply as she realized what the Fazcrew had done; they were together while she and Mangle were cut off from Blu, Spring, and Alfred. _Not cool._  
  
“Wonderful,” she mumbled under her breath, turning her gaze back to Dr. Schmidt. She didn’t lose her frown.  
  
“Mr. Rodriguez, turn around please,” Dr. Schmidt called and Chii caught the sound of shifting as the blue rabbit obeyed. “Now, I know all of you know each other-” there was a derisive snort from somewhere within the Fazcrew, “-but this is my first year at this school and I don’t know any of you.” _Yet you could tell Blu and Henderson apart_. “So, I want all of you to fill out this questionnaire about your partner, which you will then read aloud to the class.”  
  
When two pages were handed to her, she dutifully passed it back while furrowing her brow at her questionnaire. It was short, simple, and to the point, but she had no interest in knowing _any_ of it.  
  
 _My New Lab Partner!_  
  
 _Name:_  
 _Nickname(s):_  
 _DOB:_  
 _Places You’ve Lived:_  
 _Future Plans:_  
 _Interests/Hobbies:_  
 _Favourite Colour:_  
 _Favourite Band/Musician:_  
 _Phone #_  
 _Cell:_  
 _Landline:_  
  
She glanced at Sanchez and Sanchez glanced back at her. Blue eyes met magenta for just a second. Then they both scowled at each other.  
  
“We can fill out our own,” Sanchez muttered, turning to her own sheet.  
  
“Here here,” Chii agreed, looking to her own sheet. They didn’t even need to say a word. Around her, the human pair were already talking excitedly- they were already best friends and knew all of the answers, apparently- and others began hesitantly speaking up. From behind her Chii heard Mangle angrily correct Jones’ spelling of their name. _Great._  
  
Chii hummed softly to herself- not out of happiness but out of displeasure. She quickly filled in her name and nickname before writing down J _anuary 10th, 99_. _Almost exactly a month older than Blu..._   
  
_I haven’t lived anywhere but Durmont. How sad._ She wrote down Durmont. Although she wasn’t sure, she believed Sanchez had actually been born in a different country. _Boring, even_. Moving on, she wrote, _culinary school in Paris or Rome_. She wasn’t sure which yet, her application to both schools was approved and being reviewed for acceptance already. Interests and hobbies… _geez, teachers and lab partners don’t need to know this,_ she complained silently as she wrote out c _ooking, music, being with friends_. Short, simple, to the point. It was all anyone needed to know.  
  
Since she wasn’t actually speaking to her partner, she was able to catch snatches of conversation around the room. Behind her she heard, “ _Did you just call me mangey_?” Oh dear. Across the room, she could hear Alfred struggling. Fazbear wasn’t speaking at the moment and she wondered if he realized what was wrong. Spring was too quiet to catch but the golden Fazbear twin’s tone clearly displayed that he was not happy. _As expected_. And Blu? Well. Blu.  
  
 _“Hey, are you-”_  
  
 _“Future. Plans.”_  
  
He was _pissed_. Pissed and _scared_. Chii frowned sharply and looked up. What had Henderson done to make him mad like that? She leaned forward slightly to see past Sanchez, ignoring the way the other chicken glanced at her. Chii knew Sanchez heard that; neither of them were speaking and Chii was further than Sanchez was from the rabbits. Hell, Sanchez was right _beside_ Henderson. There was no way she wouldn’t have heard that.  
  
Blu was staring at his page, his eyes wide and his hand trembling. _Oh god is he gonna have an episode in the middle of class? Do I need to go over to him? Does he need help? Should I pull him out the door and help him calm down? God dammit-_  
  
However, the tense silence between the rabbits seemed to pass as Henderson finally responded to the demand. Blu wrote down whatever the response was, refusing to look back up at his partner, and Chii relaxed; he was freaked out but overall fine. He wasn’t going to have an “episode” in the middle of class.  
  
She sighed softly in relief and turned back to her page, ignoring Sanchez’s suspicious glare, and scrawled _lavender_ on the _favourite colour_ line. Mindlessly, she noted down _Jan J_ by her _favourite musician_ and frowned at the cell line. She didn’t _want_ to give her number to Sanchez but what choice did she have? So she scrawled out her number, humming unhappily to herself as she did so, and slashed out the landline. There was no way in _hell_ she was risking this person calling her house and talking to her creepy step-father or passive-aggressive mother.  
  
Setting her pencil down, she leaned against her hand and stared towards the front of the classroom. The voices had tapered off now, leaving only the two human girls chatting away about their weekend spent shopping and getting ready for the coming year. _Shallow_ , she thought and then immediately felt bad. _Rude, Chii! They’re just enjoying being normal girls, can’t fault them for that!_  
  
Chii closed her eyes, listening to the relative silence around. It was tense. More tense than it rightfully should have been. _Rightfully, we should be together. Not separated like this._   
  
_Oh how are we gonna survive this year?_

* * *

 _My New Lab Partner!_  
  
 _Name_ : Francisca Sanchez  
 _Nickname(s)_ : Chica  
 _DOB_ : January 7 99  
 _Places You’ve Lived_ : Chihuahua, San Antonio, Durmont  
 _Future Plans_ : School in Paris  
 _Interests/Hobbies_ : Cooking, family, friends, music, sports  
 _Favourite Colour_ : Blue  
 _Favourite Band/Musician_ : Charlie Daniels  
 _Phone #_  
 _Cell:_ (223) 346-7612  
     _Landline_ : -


	4. Suspicions, Chica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long long wait!

“Thank you for your cooperation, class. Remember, these review packets need to be done by class Wednesday. You can use the next five minutes to talk amongst yourselves but I ask you don’t leave your desks, please.”

Chica didn’t hesitate to turn around to face Foxy and their friends, sliding the review packet into her bookbag right alongside the questionnaire.

The questionnaire had been a shock to her system; how could two people who are so different have so much in common? Cooking, music- even applying to schools abroad. They were even born just a few days apart and it irked on Chica’s nerves.

She wanted  _ nothing _ to do with the other chicken.

Looking towards her friends, she wasn’t at all surprised to see the Fazbear brothers had started talking immediately, but she  _ was _ surprised that the rabbit hadn’t joined them or at least turned to her and Foxy. In fact, he was looking in the complete opposite direction- towards his lab partner.

Chica frowned and glanced at Foxy, who looked just as confused as she did. “He’s watching Rodriguez,” she informed him and he looked towards Bonnie, noticing she was, in fact, correct. She tapped her foot against the floor and glanced at the ceiling, frowning to herself. What she had overheard before flashed through her mind. “Probably because of earlier…”

“Earlier?” Foxy questioned, looking at her with a raised brow. Clearly he had been too absorbed in his argument with Blanc to notice what had happened between the rabbits. 

_ This isn’t the place to talk about it, _ she decided. With a dismissive wave, she said, “I’ll tell you later.” Although it probably wasn’t true, she added, “Doesn’t really matter, anyway.”

Foxy accepted her words with a careless shrug, picking up his own review packet and flipping through it lazily. “Ya know, I wonder if this’ll put our plans this evenin’ on hold.”

“Oh please,” she snorted, pulling the packet back out to look through it herself. She noted quite happily that everything seemed pretty easy- just general review questions. “We can finish these in an hour or two, tops. Plenty of time for pizza and videogames.”

“Good,” Foxy grinned, dropping his packet carelessly into his bag. “What movies do ya think will be on the marathon this weekend?”

“Hopefully something fun,” she answered with a sigh, remembering their last disaster marathon. It had been hilarious, the movies were so bad. “I vote Mummies,” she added as a last-minute thought.

“Lemme guess, first two, not the third?” Foxy asked with a grin.

“Duh,” she snorted, grinning slightly herself. “Just like we know damn well we won’t be watching the fourth Indiana Jones.”

“There’s a fourth one?” Foxy asked innocently, tilting his head at her and twitching his ears with wide, mischievous eyes. Chica laughed.

“Oh, Foxy, you silly little fox,” she chuckled, shaking her head at him. He grinned and turned to look at their other friends. She glanced over when Foxy’s grin morphed into an annoyed scowl and she raised a brow when she saw all three of them watching Rodriguez, Salvage, and Fischbach. Neither three of the “weird” classmates seemed to care- that or they were completely oblivious- about their audience.

She watched Foxy lean over to Bonnie, who was the most obvious observant staring  _ directly at _ his lab partner. “Bonnie,” Foxy tried, though he sat up straight with the most  _ scandalized _ expression on his face when Bonnie didn’t even look at him; instead the rabbit held a hand up, one finger lifted, in the  _ one moment _ gesture. Chica almost laughed at Foxy’s gobsmacked expression.

_ Wow, Bonnie, now Foxy won’t talk to you today. Congrats. _

However, Chica couldn’t help but frown. It wasn’t exactly  _ often _ that Bonnie would just brush one of them off. The only time she could remember him doing so was when his father got remarried when he was fifteen and he had to meet his new step-brother. 

Foxy looked back at her questioningly. All she could do was shrug.

Apparently the fox decided he’d rather not think too much about it as when he spoke again, he said, “Well, ya already know my vote is on the Caribbean movies.”

_ What a surprise! … Not. _ “Again?” she groaned, despite having expected the answer. “We watched those at  _ least _ three times over summer, Foxy.”

“And we’ll damn well watch them again,” Foxy declared, snickering as the chicken groaned again. “Come on, even you have to admit those movies are good. A bit  _ inaccurate, _ but good!”

_ More than a bit.  _ “The first one’s good,” she countered, “though the love story was really boring to me.”

Actually  _ very _ boring, but at least it was vital to the plot. That was its only saving grace in her opinion.

“Of course it was,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as he stretched. “Ya’ve never much been into that kind of thing.”

_ Romance is not my thing. _

Before she could reply, the bell rang. She watched, amused, as both Foxy and Goldie leapt from their seats and nearly collided with one another before she calmly stood up, slipping out of her seat as Bonnie and Freddy did the same. She followed Goldie and Foxy out of the room, completely ignoring the three friends still at their desks by the door. 

They headed towards the cafeteria when Freddy and Bonnie joined them. “Thank god it’s only one class,” Goldie sighed. Chica raised a brow.

_ Thanks for jinxing it, Goldie. _

Chica brushed it off, though, as she sat down at the table across from Goldie, beside Bonnie, and pulled out her lunch. However, she couldn’t let it go for very long as Goldie declared, “That was  _ really _ weird.” She tried not to sigh in aggravation;  _ do you really want to have this conversation at a table full of jocks and cheerleaders? _

They didn’t even know  _ why _ they always sat there. Force of habit? Considering they didn’t even really  _ like _ the other people at the table… Just casually interacted with them… Truth be told, Chica could happily cut them off and feel no guilt at all. However, Foxy, Goldie, and Bonnie all got along relatively well with them and Chica was on the soccer and softball teams with a few of the girls at the table, so she couldn’t do that. Not right then, anyway.

But hey… highschool was almost over.

“Weird?” Chica repeated, raising a brow at the golden bear across from her. 

“You didn’t even talk to your partner,” Foxy accused with a huff, frowning at her.  _ Because I’m smart! _ “It was  _ really _ weird. Somethin’s off about Blanc. He, she, it, whatever is  _ really _ weird.”

Chica felt a little irked at the latter part of his declaration- calling a person an  _ it _ was going a little too far, even when it was in reference to Vivien Blanc or any of their friends. However, she chose not to say anything as Freddy mused, “Maybe there’s a reason.” The chicken turned to look at him, raising her brow in slightly.

_ Can we talk about something else? Like this weekend or something? Jesus Christ, guys, fucking Ashley Creol and Tom Walker are listening to us right now. _

“What do you mean?” Bonnie questioned Freddy and Chica let out an irritated breath. Freddy, evidently catching onto her, Foxy, and Goldie’s aggravation, simply shrugged.

“It’s nothing,” he excused, though it sounded like a lie. Or a promise. Something like…  _ I’ll tell you later. _ Meant only towards Bonnie.

Goldie looked at Foxy and Chica with a sigh and Chica almost chuckled at his put-off expression. Clearly he was annoyed with Freddy’s strange words and dismissal as much as he was with the topic itself.

Noticing Bonnie’s ears twitching, Chica frowned and turned to look at the rabbit. His ears, normally hanging down behind his shoulders, were slightly raised as if perked. It was a strange sight. She didn’t realize what he was doing until Kain and her friends passed by, walking close together and seeming to almost move as a hive mind.

It was kind of creepy, if Chica was to be honest, how they seemed to just instinctively know where each other were about to step and how they could retain formation as they stepped around an outsider. The fact that Chica referred to other classmates as “outsiders” to the little group was a  _ whole _ different story.

“They’re complaining about getting partnered with us,” Bonnie informed them, irritation in his voice as his ears relaxed; evidently he had stopped straining to listen to the conversation, or maybe they were just too far away for him to try. “As if they have any right to complain, we’re the ones stuck with a bunch of weirdoes.”

“Here here,” Foxy agreed as he took an oddly aggressive bite out of his sandwich. Chica only somewhat remembered Kain saying the same less than an hour before.

Believing the subject was finally dropped, Chica turned back to her own lunch and began eating. Bonnie wasn’t completely finished, though.

“But you know, Freddy,” the rabbit started, looking at Freddy and causing Chica to pause. “I agree. I think there’s a reason for it.”

Silence descended over them. They all continued eating and their high-class classmates around them began conversing about whatever, none of them really even sure what the Fazcrew had been talking about. Chica chose not to enlighten them.

None of them spoke.

* * *

Bonnie had been acting strange all through their art class. His ears were perked again, clearly listening for any snatches of conversation he could get, but Chica caught the wary glances the five strange students sent their way. She could tell that, whatever Bonnie was listening for, they weren’t supplying it. They  _ knew _ he was listening. Of course, the way Bonnie had been  _ turned around in his seat and watching them _ hadn’t given him much inconspicuity. 

_ Something happened, but what? _

She scowled at the lines on her page, glaring darkly at the easel it was on.  _ Yes _ , she mused to herself,  _ something definitely happened. _ Bonnie was acting strange, saying weirdly cryptic, worrying things, and it was making her anxious. She, once again, drew a quick line across the page, trying to adjust to the feeling of holding the pencil “correctly,” but her mind was not at all on the pencil or the line it made.

_ “I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die before I’m willing to do something, weirdoes or not.” _

The silence that had met those words was heavy and full of shock. The only one of them who  _ didn’t _ look like they’d been slapped in the face by their mothers was Freddy, but he had at least looked as chilled as she felt. 

Whatever Bonnie had seen or heard had affected him, and it wasn’t in a good way. He wasn’t acting like himself. At least, he wasn’t acting like he  _ usually _ did.

This wasn’t the laidback, go-with-the-flow rabbit everyone was familiar with; this was the Bonnie who did the right thing, no matter how it hurt or what the consequences would be. 

This was the Bonnie who helped plan a funeral for the man he had grown up calling “pops,” the Bonnie who stood up and punched a classmate in the face for harassing Foxy, the Bonnie who walked up to a footballer “friend” who was messing with an openly-gay student and declared, with absolutely no hesitation, fear or uncertainty, “I’m gay,” and singlehandedly phased out “gay” as an insult in their school with that one statement.

This was the “I get shit done” Bonnie, not the Bonnie who just watched from the sidelines.

That alone told Chica that something was  _ very _ wrong. The fact that Bonnie wasn’t  _ explaining _ anything bothered her deeply.  _ “I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die before I’m willing to do something, weirdoes or not.”  _ Those were his words. 

_ He thinks one of them is gonna die. _ That was the worst part of it. Bonnie saw or heard something, or several things, that had him thinking that one of them was going to  _ die. _ Chica knew Bonnie pretty well. She knew he would never let that happen- not as long as he could do something about it. She knew he’d end up doing something stupid in the end, but she doubted it would have the good outcomes his past stupid actions have had… considering the suspicious, wary glances the five students in question were throwing his way. He-

There was a startled shriek from the other side of the studio, pulling Chica out of her thoughts and causing everyone to jump and turn to look, surprised, at a bottle-blonde human as she stared in horror at her pencil. “My lead broke!”

Unimpressed, Chica shared a look with Foxy.  _ Typical Ashley. _

“That’s why I said don’t put too much pressure on it,” Mr. Smith, the art teacher, scolded as he pulled a small, but sharp, knife out of his pocket and took the pencil from her. “Here, I’ll take this moment to show you how you’ll sharpen your pencils from here on out.”

Chica glanced briefly towards the five “weird” students. Oddly enough, Salvage and Fischbach each had a hand on Rodriguez’s shoulders as he stared blankly at the knife in Mr. Smith’s hands, ears flat. Blanc had turned their gaze away from it, fidgeting with their hands, and Kain simply stayed close to her friends, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. None of them approached the circle forming around Mr. Smith to watch him peel away the wood.

The chicken turned her gaze back to the knife, furrowing her brow in confusion.  _ It’s just a knife. What are they so freaked out about? _

_ “I’m not waiting for someone to fucking die…” _

* * *

It was driving her  _ crazy. _

The chicken stared at the packet lying, open, on Bonnie’s desk. She had messed up on a simple equation three times already and the frustrated scratchings glared out mockingly at her.

She couldn’t get Bonnie’s words out of her mind and  _ no one was bringing it up. _ Freddy was still on the first page of his packet, despite it having been an entire half hour, and Goldie was fidgeting with his pen anxiously. Obviously she wasn’t the only one still thinking about it.

The anxiety and aggravation only grew until, finally, she threw her pen down and turned to face the rabbit sitting on his bed, back against his wall and notebook on his knees. “Bonnie, what the fuck did you mean earlier?” she demanded, startling the rabbit. She watched him look at her, surprise in his eyes.

“What do you mean what the fuck did I mean?” he asked her, incredulity lacing his voice. “I think I was very clear.”

Chica went to tell him that  _ no, you weren’t clear at all, _ but Freddy cut in with, “Yes. You were clear in the fact you think one of them is likely to die. What we don’t understand is how you came to that conclusion.”

Well. Freddy was right. She did understand the  _ meaning _ of his words, she just didn’t understand the  _ why. _

“And after only one conversation,” Foxy cut in, prompting Chica to turn her troubled gaze to him. “C’mon, Bonnie, you’re just reading too much into their words.” Chica wished it was true, but the scowl that quickly appeared on Bonnie’s face told her that Bonnie wholeheartedly disagreed. “We don’t even  _ know _ them. We’ve only spoken to them once and you’ve only overheard their conversations, what, a couple times? You’re hearing what you  _ want  _ to hear.”

_ He has a very good point, _ Chica thought a moment before Goldie said, “He’s got a point.” They all looked towards the older Fazbear, waiting for him to elaborate. “You have a suspicion about somethin’, so your mind’s twisting things to match it. It’s pretty common, actually,” the golden bear explained simply. 

Freddy shifted in his spot, frowning slightly. “I don’t know,” he started as he glanced around at all of them. “Somethin’ does seem…  _ off _ .”

_ No one’s denying that, _ Chica thought to herself, frowning.

“And I’m not just talkin’ about how strange they are,” the bear added with a glare towards Foxy, causing the canine’s mouth to snap shut again. Chica hadn’t even realized he had been about to respond. “I think Bonnie’s right, somethin’s going on. And you’re right, too, Foxy; we  _ don’t _ know them.” Chica had a feeling Freddy wasn’t  _ really _ agreeing with Foxy; he was just using his point to support his own. “We see only what they let us see,” Freddy continued slowly, choosing his words carefully. He frowned, as though a thought had struck him, and added, “Well…  _ Supposedly _ we only see what they want us to see.”

Chica raised a brow. “Supposedly?” she repeated, though she was thinking about the way the five friends stood so close together, quiet and uneasy when Mr. Smith had brandished a simple knife. A moment that just hours before that moment would have gone completely unnoticed. “What do you mean supposedly?”

She already knew the answer before he said, “When you’re not used to people watching you or paying you any attention, you’re bound to screw up.” That certainly described the five school weirdoes. No one  _ ever _ paid them any attention, not after realizing rumours did nothing to them. “Bonnie? Context, please?”

The rabbit frowned thoughtfully, as if trying to pick his words carefully.  _ Maybe he doesn’t know how to explain. _ Bonnie was never the best with words, after all. He didn’t know  _ how _ to approach delicate subjects and she had a feeling that this was rather delicate. Not the kind of thing they usually spoke about.

“Well,” he finally started, words slow and deliberate. “When we were doing that stupid questionnaire thing, Rodriguez… had a freak-out, I guess? He just suddenly… froze up,” Bonnie explained with some issue, but Chica realized what he was talking about. “Like, he wasn’t even  _ breathing. _ And when I tried to say something, he got really, uh…”

He trailed off. He didn’t know how to describe that moment, but Chica could remember that upset, angry voice very clearly.  _ What did you do, Bonnie? _ Instead of asking this, though, she uttered, “Oh,” to get the rabbit’s attention. “That’s what that was about, huh? He sounded really pissed, Bonnie.”

She was trying to prompt him into an explanation. “You heard that, huh?” he asked with a sigh and Chica simply nodded. “I don’t know what set him off, really,” Bonnie admitted, his gaze flicking up to the ceiling. “He wasn’t just angry, he was  _ scared _ . Terrified, even. I don’t even know what I did to scare him but he didn’t seem all there.”

Chica didn’t get a chance to ask more as Foxy scoffed and waved his hand in the air, dismissing Bonnie’s concern without any apparent second thought. “So you did something to scare him. That doesn’t mean anything, Bonnie.” 

The air suddenly seemed to get colder as Bonnie leveled Foxy with steely red eyes. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation, in his voice as he stated, “A bloody bandage does, though.” 

There is was, where all of this had been leading- Bonnie’s ultimate suspicion. It… wasn’t what she was expecting.

_ He saw a bloody bandage? When? _

When it was clear that none of them were going to speak, Bonnie continued uninterrupted, unhesitant, and very sure of himself. When we went into the art room his shirt rode up when Fishbach pulled him to his feet. You guys were talking about our marathon and I was watching them, ‘cause they had said some really weird things. He had a bandage wrapped around his abdomen and there was blood on it- and I wasn’t just  _ seeing _ things, ma’s a doctor, I know a bandage when I see one.”

If it had been around the arm Chica may have been able to dismiss it easily enough, but the abdomen… She shifted in her seat, unease filling her. With every word Bonnie said it seemed to get worse and worse, and paired with the image of a fidgeting, close-knit group of nervous teens, attention on an innocent knife, staying in their corner of the room, it spelled out trouble.

“So he probably fell. It doesn’t mean anything,” Foxy tried to dismiss, but a waver in his voice gave away his own unease.

“Fischbach’s practically mute.”

It was so sudden, so unrelated, that it actually startled Chica. She turned to look at Freddy with a confused frown. She hadn’t missed the use of the word  _ practically _ .

Goldie, however, seemed to have. “What?” he questioned, raising a brow at his brother. “No he’s not, I heard him talking.”

“Practically,” Freddy sighed. “I didn’t say he  _ is _ . I thought he was being rude at first but he was legitimately struggling to say anything.” He paused and frowned. “He looked really ashamed about it, too. I basically had to watch him the entire time… which is kind of awkward but yeah...”

When Freddy trailed off and it seemed like he wasn’t going to continue, Chica prompted him with, “And that has anything to do with a bloody bandage because…?” She was honestly curious- she wanted to understand why Bonnie and Freddy were so worried, and she wanted to understand why she herself was worried.

“He had a bruise around his wrist, too,” Freddy continued on and Chica frowned, listening carefully to his words. “He rubbed his wrist and ended up pulling the fur back and I noticed it.” He hesitated, as if unsure if he should actually add to it. Part of Chica didn’t want to hear more. “I didn’t really get a good look, considering I was only glancing, but it… looked a  _ lot  _ like a hand.” A hand.  _ Freddy thinks someone grabbed Fischbach’s wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. _ As if wanting to avoid too much conflict, he added, “From what I saw, anyway.”

Chica glanced towards Foxy, frowning worriedly. If Bonnie and Freddy were suggesting what she  _ thought _ they were suggesting then she knew Foxy wouldn’t handle it well. However, she knew they had to be logical. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” she decided, turning to look at Bonnie seriously. “We don’t know what’s going on. For all we know they could have been roughhousing or gotten themselves into an accident.” She added, more as an afterthought, “Besides, Kain didn’t look like she had  _ any _ sort of trouble going on.”

Then again, how could she possibly determine that? She frowned as she remembered the way the other chicken had abruptly sat up and leaned forward, that serious, worried expression in place as she looked over towards her friend.  _ She knew what was happening, _ Chica suddenly realized, her hand tightening into a fist on the desk, out of the others’ sight.  _ Something  _ is  _ going on. _

The realization didn’t sit well with her and she tried to push it aside as Goldie spoke up with, “I didn’t notice anything about Salvage either.” His tone wasn’t quite sharp but it sounded somewhat uneasy, as though he had just realized that he had missed a crucial detail… much like Chica was sure she herself had. “He was just really nervous and wary.”

“Blanc kept zoning out but that doesn’t mean anything,” Foxy informed them. Chica just barely heard the undertone of desperation; he wanted so badly for Bonnie to be wrong and it made her stomach turn. “They’re all weirdoes and they’re bonded by their mutual weirdness, but that doesn’t  _ mean _ anything, Bonnie.”

The rabbit’s eyes narrowed at the fox and Chica just  _ knew _ something was about to give. “I’m just saying,” Bonnie started, voice straining with the effort to keep calm, “that I  _ really _ think someone needs to keep an eye on those five. Something is  _ wrong _ here and if it has  _ anything _ to do with what I think it might-”

“We have no right to suspect  _ anything _ !” Foxy finally exploded, jerking upright and glaring at Bonnie. “There was a bruise, a bandage, and a freak-out, whatever! It doesn’t mean anything, it could be any number of things! It’s  _ none of our business _ .”

He was wrong and  _ all _ of them knew it, but he was also right.

_ Anyone can suspect anything, _ she thought to herself, glancing down at the review packet.  _ How else do you think you were saved, Foxy?  _ As this crossed her mind, she made her decision.

“I think,” she finally broke the silence, picking her pen up, “that both of you are right.”

Everyone turned to her, some of them instantly understanding where she was going and some of them not understanding at all. Goldie asked, “How can both of them be right? They’re saying the exact  _ opposite _ of each other.”

That wasn’t true; Bonnie was insisting something was going on and Foxy was insisting that it was none of their business. Foxy was no longer flat-out denying the rabbit’s words, just insisting that they shouldn’t get involved, that they shouldn’t assume things, that they had no right. 

They were both right, now she just had to explain it.

“They’re both right in a way,” she started. Without really thinking about it, she pointed her pen towards Bonnie to direct everyone’s gazes to him. “Bonnie’s right, somethin’ fishy’s goin’ on, and if it puts any of them in danger then just standing by and watching it happen is just as bad as dealin’ the blow ourselves.” She hated to say it but it was absolutely true. Standing by and watching someone suffer… well…

_ The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. _

Wasn’t that basically what standing by would be?

She shifted the pen over to Foxy and the boys’ eyes followed it to her target. “But Foxy’s also right that we can’t just assume we know what’s going on and get involved. If we do, we risk messing a  _ lot _ of things up, for ourselves and Fischbach and his friends.” She didn’t mention what  _ could _ happen; all of them were smart enough to figure that out themselves.

Dropping her pen back down onto the desk, she finished up with, “We  _ don’t _ know them, we’re outsiders looking in. We  _ don’t _ know what’s going on, we  _ don’t know  _ so we shouldn’t get involved _. _ The most we should do at this point is watch for signs.”

_ Signs. _ That was literally all they could rightfully do. Watch for signs and report anything suspicious.

“Watch for signs?” Foxy demanded, incredulity clear in his voice. “Haven’t we already established that when you get an idea your mind twists things to match it?”

Chica rolled her eyes.  _ It’s really simple to avoid that, _ she thought, and then answered, “Then don’t call ambiguous actions or conversations proof or signs.” She almost hesitated as she let her voice fall into a gentler tone. She knew she shouldn’t say it- she knew it wasn’t alright to say it, but he needed to understand just what  _ could _ be at stake. “Foxy, you should know this better than any of us.”

Shocked silence met her statement. Foxy stared at her, frown sharp, but he wasn’t snarling or baring his teeth so that was a good sign. The silence stretched on only for a few seconds before the fox finally spat, “Fine.”

It was begrudging and unhappy, but it was an agreement all the same. It hung in the air around them, sinking into each of their minds- exactly  _ what _ it was an agreement to.

“So wait,” Goldie started slowly, “Did we just agree to keep an eye on our  _ least favourite people in the entire school? _ ”

“Pretty much,” Freddy confirmed, glancing over towards his brother. “Just because you don’t like them doesn’t mean they deserve whatever’s happening.”

“If anything at all,” Chica quickly warned, watching as Freddy glanced at her and nodded in agreement.

“If anything at all, yes.”

Familiar, unwelcome silence fell again, but it was quickly stripped away as Goldie spoke up again. “Keep an eye on our science partners, huh? What exactly are we watching for, anyway? Signs, but signs of what?”

They already knew the answer and none of them wanted to actually say it. None of them wanted to say those words that would  _ truly _ seal the deal, but it  _ needed _ to be said. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Bonnie- the one who started this strange agreement- who answered, “Anything suspicious, I guess.” He hesitated before finally voicing the words none of them wanted to say but needed to hear. The bottom line of their suspicions. “Things like… I dunno… depression, abuse, gang activity- you know, that kind of stuff.”

The sort of things none of them  _ really _ had experience with. The sort of things Chica wasn’t even sure she knew how to detect.  _ I’ll do some research later. _

It was tense as they all turned back to their packets. It was never meant to be that way between them. Sure, things had been a bit awkward when everyone was discovering their own oddities but never  _ tense. _ Asking Bonnie about his little  _ I’m gay _ stunt had been  _ very _ awkward, considering he had never even hinted at it before and they had been convinced he just said it to get the footballer to back off of the smaller student, but nope, he was being totally serious. Getting Foxy to speak up about his hand and scars- awkward but not tense. And Chica’s own sexuality?

Well, Chica wasn’t even sure about it herself. She certainly wasn’t about to bring it up with her male, most-likely-gay-or-at-least-bi friends.  _ Especially _ not right now, not when they had just finished an awkward, tense, uncomfortable and charged conversation.

The tense air made her uncomfortable and she knew it made the others uncomfortable as well. At last, Bonnie finally broke the silence, washing away the tense air as the subject was pushed away; “What’s the answer to number eight?”

The tense silence was gone but Chica couldn’t help but dwell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke


	5. Be careful of Watching Eyes, Chii

“Thank you for your cooperation, class. Remember, these review packets need to be done by class Wednesday. You can use the next five minutes to talk amongst yourselves but I ask you don’t leave your desks, please.”

Chii let out a sigh and turned around to face the fox sitting behind her, concerned for their wellbeing. She knew they weren’t doing so well earlier, after all, but she felt a little relieved when she noticed Mangle didn’t look too distraught. “Are you alright?” she asked softly anyway, wanting to hear it for herself.

“Yeah,” Mangle told her with a slightly-strained grin, leaning back in their seat. Chii quickly realized what they were doing and she knew it wouldn’t work. “I don’t like that I can’t see the others, though.”

_ Same, _ Chii thought miserably, but she didn’t want to make things worse so she said, “Look on the bright side, you don’t have to see  _ them _ either.” She tried not to wince at her unintended joke. Mangle didn’t seem bothered by it- in fact, they seemed more amused than annoyed.

“True,” Mangle grinned, this time a real genuine grin, and leaned closer to Chii. She resisted her initial instinct to lean back.  _ For Pete’s sake, Chii, this is Mangle, not Charlie. _ “One of the perks of being me~” the fox continued, thankfully unaware of Chii’s sudden discomfort. “What about you, though?”

“I wish I wasn’t separated from the others,” she sighed, using that moment to lean on her desk, putting just a bit more space between them. She knew it wasn’t Mangle’s fault; they didn’t exactly have the best depth perception, all things considered, and probably hadn’t even realized how close they had gotten to her.

Chii watched Mangle’s ears twitch and they bit their lower lip. She knew that meant they were trying to keep from making some kind of comment. Instead of a smart comment to whatever they overheard, the fox said, “I know. It  _ really _ sucks, yeah?”

“Totally,” she agreed without hesitance. “This class won’t end soon enough.”  _ Of course it won’t, there’s a hundred and eighty days in a school year… and then there’s all of the outside-of-class meetings we’ll have to do. This sucks… _

“Well, at least it’s only fifty minutes long,” Mangle mentioned, raising a brow at Chii. “If we had fourth period with them then  _ that _ would not be fun.”

“Oh god please no,” Chii immediately giggled, unable to help herself. She could  _ not _ imagine the Fazcrew of all people being in drawing, at least not for their longer elective period. “I can handle fifty minutes but eighty?”

“Exactly,” Mangle nodded, leaning back in their seat finally.

When Mangle was no longer in threat of getting in her personal space, Chii stretched her arms out in front of her, sighing silently to herself as the tenseness left her shoulders, and then she glanced over towards the others.

She found it off-putting that Henderson and the Fazbears were just  _ watching _ her friends, but she was satisfied to see that Blu was laughing with Spring and Alfred at the moment. It was a relief to her, as she remembered that freaked-out expression on his face just forty or so minutes earlier.

“Spring seems to have cheered Blu up,” she noted aloud. It was meant to be a private thought but it slipped out before she could stop it. She turned back to Mangle to see their confused expression.

“Cheered Blu up?” they questioned, worry in their voice. “Was something wrong?”

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Chii promised.  _ This isn’t the place to talk about those things. _ “But he didn’t look or sound too good earlier when I looked over.” She added, almost as an afterthought, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.”

“I was probably too busy with the jackass our  _ dear teacher _ partnered me with,” Mangle groused, shooting a glare towards the teacher in question’s desk. 

Chii sighed softly. “Well nothing we can do about it. All we can do it deal with it.” Not that she  _ wanted _ to, but what choice did they have? Dr. Schmidt had already said he would not switch out partners.

The bell rang but neither Chii nor Mangle stood up, allowing their lab partners to stand up first. 

“Unfortunately,” Mangle agreed once the bell tapered off. They then closed their right eye and stuck their tongue out at Chii, as if absolutely disgusted, and the chicken couldn’t help but start giggling. Mangle grinned and opened both eyes again before saying, “Time to put on a show~”

Chii raised a brow and watched, amused, as Mangle hopped up from their seat and hitched their bag up on their shoulder. As the fox walked around her desk, Chii stood up and picked her own bags up before joining her friends. Mangle’s arms by this time were looped around Blu’s shoulders, a woe-is-me expression in place. She giggled.

“Please tell me we have something to look forward to!” the fox was saying overdramatically as Chii approached them. Chii noticed Spring smile as he stood up, saying, “Well, it’s lunch time and then we have art with Mr. Smith.”

Immediately Chii let out a “Yay!” and bounced on the heels of her feet. She had always liked Mr. Smith; he was silly and, for some reason she wasn’t really sure about, let them take his class every year. Any other teacher would have said no, but not Mr. Smith.

Of course, Chii had a feeling Mr. Smith was suspicious about them and taking his class every year was only allowing him to find more evidence, but that was beside the point. 

Choosing instead to concentrate on the moment, she hitched her bags up higher and said, “Come on, let’s go claim our table before some freshmen get it. I made lunch for all of us.” 

However, another thought entered her mind. She glanced around the room; it was completely empty, even Dr. Schmidt was gone. She wasn’t sure how long he would be, most teachers stayed in their classrooms all day. From the hallway, loud voices and footsteps drowned out any words that could possibly carry through its corridor. 

Now was as good as any time to speak up during school hours.

“Are you guys okay?” she asked, looking at them. Clearly they had already caught onto the atmosphere change, as all of them were watching her without any smiles. She watched as Blu glanced around the room as well. When he spoke, his voice was low… just in case.

“I think I may have really fucked up already.”

_ Oh dear. _ She already knew what he was talking about; Henderson was watching him when he nearly had his “episode,” after all. 

“Why?” Alfred asked, his tone conveying all of the words he couldn’t find.  _ Are you all right? What happened? Do you need help? _ It made Chii’s heart hurt as she thought about how they alone were the only ones who would offer Blu this help and comfort.

Well, there was…  _ one _ exception… but that person didn’t even know what was going on. They were a complete stranger, an outsider. Blu would never accept their help, even if it was offered, and they wouldn’t offer their help unless Blu was alone. 

And Blu was never alone, not at school.

Realizing Blu was struggling to find what to say, Chii spoke up, voice gentle. “You looked like you almost had an episode.” When they all turned their attention to her, she explained, “I heard you kinda… at the, uh, future plans question.” She then added, “I looked over at you and you looked pretty bad, Blu.”

“Oh…” Blu smiled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, uh, Henderson said something that made me think about last night…” 

Chii exchanged a worried glance with all of her friends. Flashbacks in the middle of class were… not good, to say the least. The chicken watched as Mangle dropped their arms and stepped around the rabbit, turning to face him. 

“It’s no big deal, though,” Blu suddenly said, a bit insistently. “It was a… really big slip-up but it doesn’t exactly say what happened. It’s not like he saw the bandages or something,” he added with a laugh. “For all he knows anything could have triggered it, so, uh, yeah… What about you guys? Everything okay?” It was a diversion, but Chii knew they’d go along with it. Blu would tell them more if he deemed it important enough.

Besides, they needed to get to lunch soon. Dr. Schmidt would be returning shortly.

“Yeah,” Spring answered with a nod. “I didn’t have a panic attack so that’s something.” He turned his gaze to the bear of their group. “Al?”

The bear shrugged and started towards the door. “I guess,” he said, and Chii exchanged a glance with the others as they followed.  _ He needs time to gather his thoughts. _

As they walked down the hallway and to the cafeteria, they all turned their attention to Mangle. The fox shrugged. “I zoned out a couple times. But I wouldn’t count that as a fuck up, really.” 

The fox was always daydreaming and zoning out, especially when they were in a situation that made them upset. “Nothing wrong with being a dreamer,” Chii hummed softly as she sat down. Blu and Mangle walked around the table, and the fox dropped down in the seat by the wall while Blu sat on their left, right in front of Chii. Alfred sat on her left and Spring sat on her right. “I didn’t even speak to Sanchez so I’m perfectly fine.” 

Blu then asked, “So, all in all, horrible day?”

“Absolutely,” Chii chorused with Mangle and Spring, almost giggling as she began passing out the food. Mangle then tacked on, “Should’ve known the moment you lost your balance this morning that it would be.”

Blu smiled sheepishly as he accepted the offered fruit salad, saying “Yeah, sorry.” There was absolutely no reason for him to apologize, but Chii decided not to say as much. All of them knew it.

Besides, it was instinctive for the little blue rabbit to say “sorry” even when he wasn’t at fault.

The rabbit smiled at the sight of the strawberries and it actually saddened Chii to know that something as simple as strawberries in a fruit salad could make Blu so happy. It was something so simple and so expected, and yet he still perked up at the sight of them.

She decided to go ahead and pass out the cake. Blu, and the others as well, could really use the pick-me-up. “Hurry up and eat so there’s time for dessert, boys and Mangle~” Chii sang, getting their attention as the pulled the strawberry-topped cake slices out.

They all smiled at her as Blu cheered. “Awesome! Thanks, Chii, you’re the best.”

She wasn’t surprised that they had quickly determined that she had been the one to bake the cake. She  _ never _ gave store-bought cake to her friends, after all, and her mother and step-father didn’t exactly bake. Or cook.

Or clean. But that was a completely different story.

“Aw,” she giggled, “my grandmother could have done so much better.” It wasn’t simply her being modest; it was true, at least in Chii’s mind. Her grandmother had been the one to teach her everything she knew.

She really missed her.

Choosing to focus on something else, she turned to Spring with a small, teasing grin. “Sorry, Spring, I would’ve gotten you chocolate cake but we don’t have any right now.”

Spring laughed at her little prod at his love for chocolate, but he didn’t miss a beat as he turned his gaze to Blu and said, “That’s fine. Chocolate might be  _ far  _ superior but this is good too~”

The shorter rabbit played right along, pointing his fork mock-threateningly at Spring. “Now wait just a moment there, goldy-bun, ain’t  _ nothin’ _ superior to strawberry!”

Chii giggled and shared a look with Alfred. “I beg to differ,” she said as she sat back down, satisfied that everyone had their lunch and dessert. “There  _ is _ something superior to strawberries.”

“Chocolate is not it though,” Mangle added with a snort. “Not even close~”

The chicken watched as Spring pointed overdramatically towards Mangle and cried in mock betrayal, “Treason!” None of them could be bothered to care that the word echoed around the cafeteria and earned them strange looks as they all burst out laughing. Any tense air that had remained slid away easily, each of them concentrating on the feeling of  _ this _ moment.

They all looked so young, so happy and so  _ alive _ . Any outsider looking in would see three strange, but happy, teens just enjoying their time together. They would never see what was underneath.

Chii did, though. She saw the way Blu gripped his side, the way Mangle’s hand pressed against their chest. She saw the way Alfred tried to muffle his own laughter, as though allowing himself to laugh would bring trouble. She saw the way Spring’s ear drooped down to hide his face from sight, the way he covered his mouth as he laughed- not to muffle his laughter but just trying to  _ hide _ .

She even noticed it with herself, the way she leaned forward on the table rather than on her friends. The way she tucked her feet under her seat and dropped her head, hiding her own expression from sight as she laughed.

They were laughing and they were happy and Chii couldn’t stop herself, even as she saw the pain the laughing fit caused her friends. None of them could stop- because it was  _ nice _ . It was nice to feel  _ happy _ , to feel somewhat  _ normal _ , to feel like the teens they were supposed to be.

At least for the moment, she focused on the outside view. 

She focused on the happiness.

* * *

The happy, light feeling lasted up until the Fazcrew walked into the art studio.

Chii had claimed a seat at the table, watching the boys and Mangle play in amusement.

Well- the rabbits and Mangle were playing. Alfred was standing close by, keeping an eye on the rabbit spinning around on the swivel chair propelled by Spring and Mangle. The three mischief makers were laughing, which, Chii knew, was the only reason Alfred wasn’t stepping in to put an end to the admittedly dangerous source of fun.

Chii distantly wondered why Mr. Smith didn’t, but she chose not to dwell on it. Mr. Smith had always allowed them to get away with a  _ lot  _ of things. They had their suspicions about him, though.

Or maybe he just found it amusing as well.  _ Who knows. _

The carefree moment ended when a voice from the doorway whined, “Oh god dammit.” Immediately, her friends’ laughter cut off. Her gaze snapped to the door, where the Fazcrew were watching them with frowns. She frowned right back.

Then Blu laughed, saying, “Sorry, Al!” She looked back and saw Blu had fallen off of the swivel stool. Alfred had, thankfully, caught him before he could hit the ground. “Can you put me down now? Don’t drop me!” Alfred then proceeded to drop Blu the remaining foot to the ground, a mischievous smirk on his face, and Chii giggled as Blu laughed and said, “You’re such a jerk, Al.”

Alfred helped Blu up to his feet and Chii frowned as Blu’s shirt got caught on his bandage. She could just barely see a tint of red against the white of his bandage.

“Shirt,” Alfred warned softly. Blu, quickly realizing what was wrong, tugged his shirt back down. With a thanks towards Alfred, he headed towards Chii and dropped down on her right side.

The others joined them, Alfred on her left, Spring on Blu’s right, and Mangle between Spring and the window. The fun was over.

Mangle, however, decided that they didn’t want to give up the careless air- not just yet. “So,” they started, catching Chii and the others’ attention. “I think we should do something this weekend.”

“We do something  _ every _ weekend, Mangle,” Spring pointed out with a short laugh. It was true, Chii could not remember one weekend where she did not interact with her friends in  _ some _ way.

Actually... there was…   _ one _ weekend. But they never spoke about that entire week. They knew it happened… they all acknowledged it… but they never talked about it, not even when Spring wasn’t with them.

It was an unspoken agreement. They didn’t talk about that November.

“I think they mean something outside the house, Spring,” Blu snorted, bringing Chii back to the moment. “What’d you have in mind, Mangle?”

Mangle grinned and leaned forward as if they were about to share with them the secrets to the universe. However, the words that fell from their mouth was simply, “War by the water.”

Almost immediately Chii began giggling as Blu asked mischievously, “Didn’t someone nearly fall in the lake last time we did that?” Chii could see the light blush showing through Spring’s fur as the memory flashed across all of their minds; him slipping and almost falling into the water, Alfred catching him and helping him regain his balance…

And then Alfred shooting him in the face and running off, leaving a startled, soaked rabbit to register what the hell just happened.

“Well, it’s got my vote~!” Blu declared and Chii giggled more. 

“Same,” she put in as Alfred simply nodded in agreement. Mangle grinned; even if Spring disagreed, they had a majority vote.

“I can’t tell if you just want to see me fall in the lake this time or not,” Spring snorted, looking at all of them with a slight smile. “A day at the lake sounds fun, yeah. We could definitely use a little vacation.”

_ A little vacation. _ She smiled at the words. She knew that was his way of saying  _ we all need to get out of the house. _

However, her smile was short lived as, suddenly, the air around them changed. Spring glanced around and gestured them all to get closer. 

_ Private conversation. _

None of them hesitated to scoot their chairs as close together as they could and Chii leaned against Blu’s back, poking her head over his shoulder in order to see and hear. She did her best not to tense up and was more than a little grateful when Alfred leaned on the table, looking around her, rather than leaning against her.

Once all of them were as close as they could be, Spring quietly asked, “What’ll be the excuses this time, though?”

It was a valid question.  _ None _ of their parents, barring Spring’s very-absent parents, would just  _ let _ any of them hang out with friends. There had to be a reason. “Research project?” she suggested somewhat nervously, running her fingers through the feathers on her arm. “Tell them we have a project that’ll take all of Saturday?”

“Why not Sunday, too?” Spring added in, glancing around at all of them. “Make it an overnight thing. We could camp out in my back yard if it’s not raining.”

It  _ did _ sound nice. She knew what he was really offering, though; a weekend free of their parents and the fear that came with them. He always made the offer, but it was rarely accepted; their parents were fools, but they weren’t idiots. They would figure out something was up if it happened too often.

“Um,” Blu started, raising his hand. Chii shifted slightly to look at him. “My folks have been trying to get me to  _ drop out _ of school, I highly doubt they’ll care about me having a research project.”

It was true. Chii frowned and glanced at the ceiling. Blu’s parents were pushing him to drop out since the moment they started high school. Hell, they even tried to keep him from  _ going _ to high school.

“Sneak,” Alfred spoke up, prompting Chii to lean back so Blu could turn to look at him. “Don’t need to know.”

Chii glanced down, remembering the panicked phonecall from Spring the  _ last _ time Blu had been caught sneaking out.  _ That _ was definitely not fun. She dashed out of the house in the middle of breakfast and ran the entire way to the hospital.

Her parents were not pleased.

Evidently the memory was going through Blu’s mind as well as he asked, “And if they come in at midnight to find me gone?”

This time, Mangle snorted and said  _ much _ too loudly for Chii’s taste, “They’ll be too drunk to even remember the next morning.” Chii and the others looked at Mangle, somewhat alarmed as the fox’s voice carried around the room. Thankfully, Mangle realized their mistake and dropped their voice. “It might work for my parents, and even if it doesn’t it’s not like they even know where Spring’s house is.”

That was true as well.  _ None _ of them told their parents they just so happened to be friends with someone who lived in a  _ mansion _ on Lakeview. 

“We can’t keep using the same old excuses, Blu, they’ll only work for so long,” Mangle added towards the blue rabbit.

“Well, they only need to work for eight or nine more months,” Spring said with a sigh, “Then we’re out of this hellhole and off to freedom.”

_ Freedom. _ That word rang around in Chii’s mind and she smiled softly. The thought of being free… well… it felt like a dream. After more than ten years of fear, danger, unwanted  _ attention _ , and worries that things would get out of hand…  _ We’re almost out of here. _

Then Mangle took in a breath, catching Chii’s attention. The fox wore a strange, worried expression as they started saying, “I’m not sure if my parents have, uh,  _ plans  _ for us this weekend, but-”

They never got to finish their sentence. “Guys, shut up!” Blu hissed, cutting Mangle off and startling all of them. They all looked at Blu in shock; he wasn’t one to interrupt others, so Chii knew  _ something _ must have happened.

“Blu?” Spring questioned. Blu didn’t respond verbally, but Chii saw Spring’s gaze flick towards the front of the room. Subtly, she followed the gaze.

Red eyes watched them, unimpressed and with a raised brow. 

Their private conversation wasn’t so private after all.

_ How long has he been listening to us?! _ She turned her eyes back to the rabbits, who were now whispering to one another. She couldn’t quite make out the words.

Then Spring straightened up before leaning on his hand, stretching out his fingers as he did so. It was a signal.  _ Look natural. _ The four straightened up as well, leaning back in their seats in an attempt to look casual. “So, war by the water Saturday? And then camping in the back yard if weather permits?” Spring questioned, as though clarifying their plans.

“Throw in a picnic and a jam session and I agree,” Blu declared and they all laughed, though it wasn’t as carefree as it should have been. Mangle leaned forward, around Spring, and carefully reached out towards Blu, their hand landing on his shoulder.

“Oh, Blu,” they sighed dramatically, “haven’t you realized by now we will  _ always _ jam?”

Chii giggled softly, happy for the distraction. However, none of them could respond as the bell rang, signalling the start of class.

“I think class is about to start,” Blu stated matter-of-factly and she laughed softly.  _ You think? _ She turned to the front of the classroom where a human with bright red hair stood, hands on his hips as he surveyed the class.

She smiled as he began his introduction. She already knew everything he was about to say, after all.

“Everyone quiet down now! Up front, all eyes please, so we can get this over and done with and get started on having fun. Alright then, everyone settled? Good. I’m Fritz Smith and this is art…”

* * *

“Mangle, your tail is in my lap.”

“You’re welcome~”

“Mangle!”

Chii looked over her shoulder towards her friends in the backseat, giggling as she watched Mangle flick their tail up into Alfred’s face. On Alfred’s other side, Blu laughed as the bear batted at the fluffy white-and-pink tail.

“Are you three acting like children again?” Spring mock-admonished and she glanced up at him, watching his eyes flick momentarily up to the rearview mirror. They were sitting at a red light at the moment, so she wasn’t concerned about his eyes being off the road.

“Mangle is, I’m not,” Alfred stated, mock-offense seeping into his tone. Chii smiled and turned her gaze to the window.

There was a schoolbus next to them. The number on the side was peeling, but she recognized it as  _ 1012. _ If it weren’t for Spring, they would probably be on a bus just like it. In fact, up until Spring got his license ( _ at only sixteen, too- lucky! _ ) they had been trapped either walking or riding the bus.

Needless to say, they chose to walk more often than ride.

The bus was full of middle schoolers, she could see before the light turned green and Spring took a left turn onto Lakeview Road. 

Lakeview Road was the town’s mansion district. It wasn’t uncommon for people to drive through just to see the sights- some people enjoyed having their mansions visible as if on display- so Chii knew it wouldn’t be suspicious that an old chevy was driving down the road.

They passed by many mansions of varying sizes and many driveways that they all knew led to mansions out of sight, but none of them paid them much attention anymore. The interest in the large, beautiful houses had faded years ago and none of them had any desire whatsoever to actually  _ live _ in one of those places.

To all of them, mansions were just big empty houses where loneliness practically echoed down the halls. Houses that couldn’t be a home for three siblings and a nanny.

However, it was safe, it was expansive, and it was out of the way. They waited patiently as Spring hopped out of the car, key in hand to unlock the front gate blocking the driveway- and the house beyond- from sight. They might not have  _ liked _ the large house and everything it stood for, but it did offer a safe haven from their own claustrophobic homes.

It was the place any of them could run to if they needed help or they needed to hide.

When they pulled up in front of the overly-fancy house, Chii and the others who didn’t live there hopped out. She turned around to look at Spring, frowning slightly. “You’ll be okay, right ?”

Spring raised a brow at her and laughed softly. “Of course. I’m just going to pick up Plushie, you know.”

“I know,” Chii sighed, fidgeting with her hands and glancing back at Mangle as they secured Plushie’s carseat and the extra that Mrs. Marks had given him for Plushie’s friend. “It’s just- two hours…”

“Don’t worry, Chii, everything will be all right,” he promised, giving her a comforting smile. “I won’t even be alone for all of that, anyway.”

“I know,” Chii repeated. She gave him her best smile. “Be careful?”

“Always am.”

It was a lie and they both knew it, but they shared a smile anyway and Chii backs away from the car so that Spring could safely pull away. She watched him go worriedly, looking back at Alfred and Blu waiting on the porch and Mangle, standing just a few yards away from herself.

“He’ll be fine, Chii,” Mangle assured her, though there was a worried edge to their voice as well.

Spring hadn’t been left alone like that in nearly an entire year. This wasn’t like the concert, where he would be surrounded by people, or when he was home without them where he still had Plushie and sometimes Mimi. This was an entire hour alone in a car with absolutely no one there to interrupt his thoughts or distract him with meaningless conversation.

With a sigh, Chii turned and walked up the porch steps, watching Alfred pull out the spare key he had been given so many years before. Each of them had one; Spring didn’t feel safe putting a spare outside the door, but he trusted them and gave them each a key of their own.

Chii kept hers on a chain hidden in her bookbag. She knew Blu kept his hidden under the fabric lining in his guitar case, as it was the only place his parents wouldn’t find it, and Alfred, similarly to Chii, kept his on a chain. If he was wearing a shirt that covered his neck he would just wear it, but usually he simply kept it in his bookbag as well.

Mangle was a lot sneakier than any of them; they hid it  _ inside  _ their  _ hand _ .

Stepping into the foyer, Chii turned around to close the door. She let her eyes linger on the trees by the tall fence; the road was blocked from view. 

“Everything will be fine,” she heard Mangle say again. She let out another soft sigh and turned to follow them into the living room.

“I know. Let’s just start on our homework, yeah?”


	6. No Compromise, Chica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’know, because their home lives are really important to this story I would love to make Chica, Blu, and Mangle’s characters more, uh... real, I guess, and actually use French and Spanish since those are the languages they speak at home... y’know, instead of saying “he said in Spanish,” because really, does that feel real at all? Unfortunately... I only speak English and am in the process of learning German (I can understand very basic German and read it pretty proficiently but writing it and speaking it I can’t do) and the only friend I have that speaks Spanish fluently... doesn’t really like FNaF. At all. In faaact she, uh, kinda hates it.
> 
> I don’t want to butcher the languages by using Translate so I’m just gonna stick with this for now. Maybe in the future, if I ever believe I’m proficient enough in either of these languages or have someone to help, I’ll come back and change it (and have translations in the notes in the bottom), but until then… yeah.
> 
> **Apology in advance if this chapter isn’t too good, shit happened.

“Chica, dear, you’ve been down for a while now. What’s wrong?”

The chicken frowned and glanced over at her mother. “It’s nothing,” she assured the concerned hen. “Just some issues at school.”

“It’s only been two days,” her mother noted, surprise evident in her tone. “You’ve never had any problems this early.”

Turning back to the pot of noodles she was boiling, Chica let out a sigh. “It’s really nothing, more petty than anything,” she half-lied, thinking about Bonnie and Freddy’s concerns. “We were assigned science partners is all. And we have assigned seats in math. It’s, uh, alphabetical order, so I’m nowhere near the others,” she explained briefly, stirring the noodles. _They’re almost done._

“Well, are you with one of your friends in science?” her mother prompted, raising a brow at her. Chica couldn’t help but snort at that.

“No,” she answered, watching the noodles shift and loosen. “In fact I’m with someone I have literally never spoken to before.”

“Look at it this way; it’s a chance to make a new friend,” Mrs. Sanchez declared optimistically. Chica averted her magenta eyes, not wanting to tell her mother _exactly_ what she thought about her new science partner... or what could _potentially_ be going on with her and her friends. “You could invite them over for dinner one day-”

“No,” Chica immediately interrupted, cringing as she did so. Quickly, she went on to explain, “I mean, she doesn’t exactly like me. At all. Inviting her would probably be a _huge_ disaster.”

She chanced a glance at the hen mixing the sauce, noticing she was frowning. “Well, dear,” she started, “maybe you just need to prove the girl wrong. I don’t see how anyone could dislike you.”

“That’s because you’re my mom,” Chica snorted and turned the stove off, carefully picking the pot up and heading over to the strainer sitting in the sink. “Not everyone can like me, you know. There’s plenty of people who don’t like girls like me.”

“Well that’s _their_ problem, now isn’t it?”

“Damn straight,” Chica muttered under her breath, too quietly for her mother to hear, as she poured the noodles into the strainer. _Then again, she doesn’t know anything about me. I don’t know anything about her, either. Didn’t stop me before... but now..._

She pushed the thought out of her mind, shaking her head to herself. _Geez, Chica, you’re starting to sound like Bonnie. She’s strange but she doesn’t act like some traumatized child._ She knew that for a fact; she, as well as the others, had been watching Springtrap- _is it even okay to call him that anymore?-_ and his friends, just as they had said they would. She did understood where Bonnie and Freddy were coming from, truly she did now that she was actually looking for it.

Springtrap- _maybe I should just call him Salvage instead-_ tended to flinch at unexpected sounds and when someone accidentally brushed against him. He would inch away when anyone got too close, and he was always looking around, as if not wanting to be overheard by anyone. He also seemed to be the... leader? The others seemed to naturally follow him, anyways.

Blanc... well, to be honest, Blanc didn’t seem to react much. It was almost as though they never even noticed other people- right up until the moment a shoulder bumped into them, where they would flinch away, as if expecting... _something._ What they could _possibly_ be expecting, though, Chica didn’t want to think about.

Fischbach was _very_ quiet. In Chica’s observation, he hadn’t said much, and he tended to be very neutral-looking. But, she knew, he was watching everything; in a crowded hallway and in the math classroom, when they had to stand up to wait for their assigned seats, he had placed himself between his friends and everyone else. There just seemed to be a protective air around him that kind of reminded Chica of Freddy...

Then there was Rodriguez, the peppy, optimistic Spaniard. Chica just couldn’t see in him what Bonnie had seen; all she could see was an annoyingly-happy and clumsy rabbit. However, if she was to give Bonnie any merit whatsoever, she had to believe that he had seen _something_ in the rabbit to suggest that it was all a facade, something that didn’t bleed through earlier that day while she watched him.

Now Kain. Chica had noticed literally _nothing_ about Kain. She wasn’t anything like her friends, but she still stuck with them anyway, smiling and talking with only them, and the others seemed to form a natural barrier between her and the other people in the school. It was as if they were _isolating_ her...

Or as if they were daring anyone to _try_ anything.

From that perspective, Chica figured, _all_ of Kain’s friends were being protective- not just Fischbach. They created a barrier around her... possibly to protect her? But from _what?_

Chica sighed, stirring the noodles up and stepping aside to let her mother deal with the sauce. Thinking on it objectively, even Chica had to admit that Kain was pretty- _very_ pretty. It had been a topic of debate back in late middle, early high school; why did someone like Kain hang out with someone like Salvage? If she really tried, she could _completely_ beat out at least half of the cheerleaders, and if she weren’t so... _strange,_ Chica had no doubt Kain could have a string of boyfriends- _or girlfriends-_ if she wanted to. Certainly a lot of people would love having someone who _looked_ like her around, despite whatever... poor personality she could potentially possess.

Of course, along with such “good” things (though, personally, Chica would not call them “good”) came the unwanted attention.

_Maybe that’s what her friends are trying to prevent._

“-ears, dear?”

Blinking, Chica looked over at her mother. _Oh crap, has she been speaking this whole time?_ “Ah, sorry mom, got lost in thought, can you repeat that?”

Her mother rolled her eyes, amused. “I was asking if you and your friends have any plans for the holidays, like Halloween or New Years?”

Chica hummed softly, shoving the thoughts about her science partner to the side to focus. “Foxy’s parents invited us to New York to watch the ball drop,” Chica told her, opening a cabinet to grab plates. “And I think the Fazbears are planning a Halloween party for the entire junior and senior classes. Rented out a venue at the end of Lakeview and everything.”

“That sounds expensive,” Mrs. Sanchez laughed, shaking her head. It was so typical of the Fazbears to do something like that. “Any chaperones?”

“Duh,” Chica snorted, walking over to the dining room table to set it. “It _is_ technically a school event, they’re just funding it. I think they’ll be taking volunteers, actually.”

“Well as long as there’s adult supervision,” Mrs. Sanchez sighed as she carried the pasta to the table.

“These are the Fazbears and the school system we’re talking about, mom,” Chica reminded her, heading over to the stairs. She decided not to point out that several of the students would already be eighteen by then- Bonnie and the Fazbear twins included. “Dad, supper’s ready!”

She didn’t receive a response but she _did_ hear a door close, so she went back into the dining room. As she did, she glanced at the pictures on the wall again, taking in the pictures of her, her family, and her friends.

Briefly, she wondered if Kain viewed her friends as family. That would certainly explain the closeness- the protectiveness- surrounding the five friends who didn’t _really_ seem to have that much in common- at least, not that much on the surface. She didn’t exactly _know_ them, after all.

With a sigh, she went to her seat and plopped down, waiting for her father and mother to join her. _Why has life gotten so complicated?_

* * *

The moment they entered the science classroom, all of her friends fell silent. Chica gave them a confused glance, then followed their gazes to the other students in the classroom.

Their science partners were all there, looking rather... _tense_ wasn’t the best word for it. _Off?_ Off sounded like a good word.

Well, more off than usual, anyway.

Frowning, Chica slipped into her seat and glanced over towards Bonnie. She raised a brow as she noticed he had immediately pulled out a notebook; it was in his lap, under the desk and out of sight of their teacher and his partner, and he was scribbling something in it. She couldn’t make anything out, but she could definitely tell that it was a list of some kind.

_What in the world are you doing, Bonnie?_

When Bonnie had finished writing, moments before the bell rang, he flipped the notebook closed and glanced over towards her. He simply shrugged, not giving her any answer to her silent question.

“Alright, class!” Dr. Schmidt started much too happily for the tense air of the classroom. “Homework!”

Obediently, Chica pulled her binder out and removed the packet from its proper folder, setting it down on her desk. Beside her, Kain simply pulled her packet from a textbook- _a math textbook,_ Chica noted absently- before turning around, clearly anticipating Dr. Schmidt’s “pass it to the front!”

Chica turned to face Foxy, noticing his frustrated frown as he handed his own packet over. A brief glance at the packet showed several scratched-out answers on the first few questions- the only evidence that Foxy had been bothered at all the day they were working on it.

Her eyes trailed over to Freddy and Goldie, both of whom seemed to be looking at each other. She couldn’t see Goldie’s expression, but Freddy seemed very... freaked out, actually.

Worried, even.

She didn’t spend too much time dwelling on it, turning around and setting Foxy’s packet on top of her own just before Dr. Schmidt reached their row.

The doctor set the stack of papers on his desk and turned around to face the students. “Now that we’ve got the homework out of the way, let’s talk about your first lab,” he started. “You won’t be working on it until Friday, as today we’ll be doing the lecture first, but in it you will be observing how the steel wool reacts to the fire.”

Chica couldn’t resist rolling her eyes and leaning back in her seat, watching the instructor. _Talk about freshman stuff,_ she silently snorted, lightly tapping her foot against the ground. After a few seconds, she glanced at Kain to see her hands tightly folded on her desk, her blue eyes firmly locked on them. She was tense, uncomfortable, and very clearly _not_ paying attention.

Not that _anyone_ was paying attention. Chica had a feeling everyone heard the word “steel wool” and immediately tuned out. The human girls to their left were quietly giggling together, actually...

She glanced over at Bonnie, whose eyes were on their teacher yet a million miles away. His expression was tight. Subtly, she turned her head to look back at the twins; Goldie was staring at his paper, relaxed and distant, as his pencil moved along the page, and behind Goldie Freddy just watched Dr. Schmidt, his expression screaming boredom. Chica couldn’t see Foxy, but she could hear his pen against paper.

Then Salvage jumped and Goldie jerked to attention, evidently startled by whatever had scared Salvage. Chica didn’t get a chance to really register what it was before Salvage’s hand was in the air.

“Yes, Mr. Salvage?” Dr. Schmidt asked with very little hesitation.

“May I step out for a moment?” the rabbit requested, his voice somewhat shaky.

“Of course,” Dr. Schmidt allowed, not commenting on the fact that Salvage was out of his seat before the words had completely left his mouth.

“Hello, this is Spr...” Chica caught just before the door closed. She quickly glanced towards Kain to find the chicken turning around to, very briefly, share a look with the white and pink fox behind her.

“Mr. Rodriguez, face the front please,” Dr. Schmidt commanded, and the chicken quickly turned back around as if the command had been for her instead. Lightly, she could hear Kain’s shoe tapping against the tiled floor, and she twisted her hands together on the desk.

_Fidgety today, aren’t’cha..._

“Let’s go over lab safety now. No baggy clothes, no open-toed shoes...” Chica let out a silent breath and leaned forward on her hand, watching the scientist boredly. They had been doing lab safety for _years,_ one would think that in an _advanced_ science class they wouldn’t need to go over it _again._

She felt a pencil poke her in the back, and while Dr. Schmidt was looking the other way, she reached behind her. Foxy slipped the paper into her hand quickly, and she pulled it into her lap, unfolding it as quietly as she could.

**Why did Freddy & Goldie look freaked out?**

_How should I know?_ She asked silently, glancing towards the door as the golden rabbit slipped back inside. While their instructor was speaking to Salvage, she quickly scrawled a reply; **Idk I guess something happened. We’ll ask later.** She dropped it over her shoulder onto his desk and looked back towards the front to see Salvage turn to walk back to his desk.

He didn’t sit down, however; instead, he knelt down and began packing up. Apparently he was leaving.

Chica’s gaze fell on Bonnie to find him, once again, writing in his notebook. She frowned. _Note to self, ask about that, too._

Looking back towards their instructor, she noted his back was now turned and he was writing out symbols on the board. With a silent groan, she leaned on her right hand. _Can you be any more elementary? Everyone knows what a skull and crossbones means!_

The door clicked shut, and the entire class all just seemed to shut down, not even bothering to listen to the doctor as he explained the meanings behind each symbol and what to do in case of a chemical spill. Chica briefly gave Kain a glance to find her staring at her desk, her blue eyes strangely cold looking.

It made Chica wonder what exactly the chicken was thinking.

Shifting in her seat, Chica looked towards the clock. Class wasn’t even half over. Dropping her gaze to Bonnie, she found him slipping the notebook back into his bag; on his other side, it looked like Rodriguez had decided right then and there was a good time to sleep.

 _This is gonna take forever,_ she realized dully, muffling a sigh and leaning on her hand. Dr. Schmidt didn’t seem to give a damn that the entire class had tuned him out, choosing instead to keep droning on... and on... and on...

It barely registered in her mind that whatever energy Dr. Schmidt had held at the start of the class period was gone.

The rest of class seemed to crawl by, and when the bell rang at least half of the class jerked to attention while the other half nearly jumped ten feet in the air in surprise. Chica slid out of her desk and stood up, glancing around the room. Goldie was stuffing his belongings into his bag while Freddy was calmly zipping his bag; Bonnie just grabbed his books and hitched his own bag up on his back, not bothering to toss the books in, and Foxy slipped his notebook inside.

Salvage’s group of friends didn’t move for several silent moments as the humans in the class all filed out. Then, almost as if realizing what was going on, Fischbach closed his notebook and slid it into his bag, dropping his pen somewhere among the mess, and stood up. The action prompted his remaining friends, including Kain, to do the same.

Bonnie shared a look with Chica before heading out the door, and Chica was quick to follow. A glance back showed Salvage’s friends simply grouped together near the bear’s desk, waiting for the Fazbears and Foxy to leave.

“Weird,” she muttered as Goldie, Freddy, and Foxy joined them in the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria. “What-”

“Not here,” Bonnie interrupted, glancing to their left where the varsity football team was passing. Chica frowned, casting her gaze around, and she understood where Bonnie was coming from; too many people, too little privacy.

They couldn’t even talk about what just happened. _Well damn._

“Right,” she muttered an agreement, entering the cafeteria and making her way to their table. Not for the first time she regretted their choice to sit with the other popular students. She would have much rather been sitting with just her “brothers.”

Taking her seat next to some random cheerleader, she turned to pull out the lunches she’d made for herself and her friends.

“So,” Foxy started, trying to break the awkward air settling around them, “that movie marathon this weekend...”

“I dunno,” Goldie mumbled, sounding oddly... calm, given what had just happened. “I don’t think I’m feeling up to a marathon anymore.”

“Same,” Freddy agreed with a sigh, sounding much more distraught than his brother. “Why don’t we save the marathon for a different weekend?”

“I think,” Bonnie started, popping the lid off of the salad Chica had offered him, “that we should... I dunno... go to the park?”

Frowning, Chica eyed him. Foxy, on the other hand, just shrugged and looked away, as if he knew exactly what Bonnie was talking about.

“Which park?” Goldie asked, curious.

“The one with the lake,” Bonnie explained vaguely, glancing towards the ceiling. “Not pond, but the actual lake.”

“You mean Lakeview Park?” Chica clarified, and Bonnie nodded. “Why would we go all the way out there? It’s a little far from our houses.”

“Yeah but we’re planning on going to New York and that is _way_ far from our houses,” Bonnie countered, his crimson eyes not falling to meet Chica’s magenta. _He knows something._ “Besides, it’s a good park.”

“Aye,” Foxy mumbled an agreement, sounding distant and in thought. “That it is.”

“Right,” Chica agreed, albeit somewhat suspicious. _Bonnie, why aren’t you really explaining?_

“...saw him in the office. Guess he didn’t do his homework or something, must’ve gotten in trouble,” a voice from next to Chica broke through her thoughts, the cheerleader’s voice reminding her exactly _why_ Bonnie wasn’t explaining anything. Bonnie, although his eyes never left the ceiling, twitched and scowled at the words.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” another human agreed, laughing. “Springtrap never was that good a student.”

Goldie and Freddy shared a look and Bonnie’s scowl deepened while Foxy shifted uncomfortably in his spot next to Chica.

It was ironic, and it hit her like a brick in the face; here they were, the “Fazcrew” as the school had dubbed them, becoming uncomfortable- and in Bonnie’s case, somewhat _mad-_ about their fellow students talking about Salvage... when they themselves had done the same thing just a few days before.

 _But now,_ she remembered, glancing around at her friends before dropping her eyes back to her food, _things just aren’t that simple._

_We didn’t know anything._

* * *

Being in a highschool Spanish classroom when Spanish was your first language was amusing at best, deathly _boring_ at worst. However, the plus of being in a Spanish _I_ class on the second day of Spanish class meant they were going over the alphabet and she could just zone out, dwelling in her own thoughts.

When the bell rang, it was like an angel had opened the gates of heaven or something; students practically _stampeded_ the door. Chica just watched in amusement before standing up and following once the coast was clear.

It didn’t take her long to locate her friends, and wordlessly they headed outside with the horde of juniors and seniors towards the parking lots. Their fellow students ran around, having good times with their friends and seemingly uncaring that they were supposed to be acting so much more mature than they were at that moment.

Chica decided not to make any comments about it, though. After all, they were all still students; might as well let them enjoy their youth while they could.

As the crowd dispersed, leaving them to walk to Goldie’s van in relative isolation, they finally began talking.

“So,” Foxy started, almost managing to sound casual, “Bonnie... Mind telling us what that was about?”

“What?” Bonnie asked, sounding legitimately confused by their canine friend’s question, and Chica had to resist smacking her hand against her forehead. The expression on Freddy’s face told her he was struggling not to smack the rabbit.

“During science,” Foxy clarified, glancing at their friend with an almost disbelieving expression. He was fiddling with his prosthetic, a tight frown on his lips.

“Oh,” Bonnie mumbled in understanding, frowning as he thought back to their science class. “He apparently had a family emergency and had to go pick someone up,” he explained to them, shrugging slightly as he spoke. “Apparently it was an hour away, so there was no way he would make it back to school for the rest of classes.” Chica had thought that was the end of that, but then the rabbit continued with, “It sounded like he already had an arrangement with the school. Dr. Schmidt looked and sounded like he already knew what was going on the moment he saw Salvage’s hand.”

Thinking back on it, Chica realized that Bonnie was right. Dr. Schmidt hadn’t even asked _why_ Salvage needed to step out, or why he had his phone on in the middle of class. He hadn’t even hesitated to grant Salvage’s request.

“He was holding his phone,” Goldie informed them, as if all of them didn’t know. He _had_ answered the phone before even leaving the room, after all. “I heard it vibrate but he had it out of sight before I could actually _see_ it.”

 _Typical,_ she thought, sighing softly to herself. _Well, let’s see what the bros know._

“So Salvage had to leave for a family emergency,” she started, stopping next to the van to wait for Goldie to unlock the doors. “That makes sense. But what was up with y’all at the very start?” She turned to look at the brown bear, raising a brow at him. “Freddy, ya looked like someone just keeled over and died right in front of ya.”

“Might as well have,” the twins snorted in unison, though neither sounded amused at all. Goldie proceeded to unlock the doors while Freddy glanced around. Noting that they were relatively alone and no Animals were near them, the younger twin allowed his voice to drop into a whisper as he told Chica, “There was a bloodstain on Fischbach’s homework. Tried to excuse it as ketchup.”

Frowning, Chica shared a look with Foxy. Sure, neither of them were denying something was _going on,_ but a bloodstain was... worse than Chica was wanting to think.

If Freddy had more to say, he was silenced by the sound of approaching laughter. Goldie cleared his throat, prompting them all to turn and look at him. He had his door open and he gestured inside the van. “I don’t think a parking lot is the best place for this conversation,” he told them, and knowing he was right, they all opened their doors and climbed in, settling down in their usual seats.

Notably, Foxy sat down in the middle back seat rather than next to a window.

“Anyone could hear us out there, ya know,” Goldie explained shortly as he closed his door.

“Yeah,” Bonnie agreed, settling into his seat behind Freddy and pulling his seatbelt on. Once every door was shut and the vehicle roared to life, the rabbit continued, “So Salvage had to run out in the middle of class, Fischbach’s homework was bloodstained, and Rodriguez had a big ugly bruise on his face.” _Huh, I didn’t notice that one. Whoops._ “Anything up with Kain and Blanc today?”

Chica looked towards Bonnie with a slight frown, considering the way Kain had been behaving that day. There was nothing that screamed _help, I’m in trouble!_ but that didn’t mean she wasn’t acting off.

Before she could say anything, though, Foxy answered, “Blanc wouldn’t sit still. They were really out of it, too.” Chica glanced towards Foxy, noting the frown had morphed into a scowl, but he wasn’t meeting any of their eyes. “Only tuned in long enough to watch Salvage leave and went right back to starin’ out the window.”

“Kain didn’t do much,” Chica told her friends, looking forward again as she considered Kain’s actions. _She just sat there and stared at her desk. Didn’t even take notes._ With a shrug, she added, “Kinda just sat there, starin’ at her desk. Seemed tense but nothin’ really _off,_ per se.”

It was silent for a few moments before Freddy asked, “Still think we’re misunderstandin’ the situation?”

How could they answer that? _A bloodstain, a bruise... a bloody bandage, a bruise... what answer is there to_ that _question? No one’s denyin’ somethin’s wrong here._

The silence dragged on for several minutes as Goldie pulled out onto the road, heading towards his and his brother’s house. Finally, he said, “There’s always a chance.” His voice was low, flat, and disbelieving. Clearly he didn’t believe even himself. “But I don’t think we are... not anymore, anyway...”

Chica considered his words. Undoubtedly, undeniably, something was going on, but it could have been any number of things. Fights, gang activity, self-abuse, domestic abuse... _They don’t even exhibit the same signs._

“I don’t think we know _exactly_ what’s going on,” she finally decided, sighing. The more she thought about it, the more lost she felt. “I honestly don’t think there’s one flat answer to this, guys. Somethin’s goin’ on but I just don’t think we have the full story.”

 _Of course we don’t,_ she scoffed silently to herself. _There’s no way for us to_ get _the full story._

“It’s only the third day of school,” Bonnie pointed out, and Chica bit her tongue. _No, it’s the start of the thirteenth year._ Apparently, Bonnie realized that as well as he amended, “The third day we’re actually paying any attention, anyway.”

“We’re bound to notice something if there’s anything else,” Chica finished, receiving distant, if distracted, nods of agreement from her friends.

A few seconds passed before Freddy suggested, “Maybe we should talk to them about it?” His voice was hesitant; clearly he knew how _that_ would be met. Chica furrowed her brow, staring incredulously at her friend.

_Talk to them? I think not._

Unsurprisingly, Foxy was the first to react, squealing, _“Talk_ to them?! Are you _crazy,_ Fazbear?! It’s one thing watchin’ ‘em from a distance but actually gettin’ _involved-_ at that point we might as well just call the cops!”

 _Well... why_ aren’t _we? I mean, we don’t know_ what’s _going on but we know_ somethin' _is happening..._

“We can’t,” Goldie deadpanned, almost startling Chica; he had fallen so quiet that she had almost figured he’d dropped out of the conversation. “We’re in unfamiliar ground, Foxy. Besides, I don’t think you call up the cops to say “I think one of my classmates is gettin’ knocked around” or somethin’.”

_Not without proof._

“The CPS,” she suggested flatly, but she knew that wouldn’t work. Everyone knew how infamous the CPS had become- children from families they checked frequently turned up dead all the time. It was a sad truth, at least in their community.

“They _usually_ give prior warning,” Bonnie pointed out, sounding _very_ unhappy about that fact. He added, “They’re not good at hidin’ it but I get the feelin’ they’re damn good at hidin’ the _tracks_.”

She knew who “they” were, of course.

“Then what _can_ we do?” Foxy demanded hotly. “We _can’t_ talk to them. One, we don’t like them. Two, they don’t like us. Three, we _still_ don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on.”

“It wouldn’t kill us to be more friendly towards them,” Freddy told the fox, his voice suddenly sharp. Chica frowned, raising a brow at her friend. “Besides, _I_ don’t dislike them, _I’ve_ always been neutral on this subject. The only reason _they_ don’t like _us_ is because you lot all started actin’ aggressive towards them. I clearly remember them bein’ neutral about us until they finally noticed.”

Sensing an argument about to break out, Chica interrupted with, “Arguin’ won’t do us any good.” Unknowing that her next words would _start_ the argument, she continued, “How about this, let’s compromise.”

“Compromise?” Bonnie repeated, disbelieving. She glanced towards him, frowning. “What’s there to _compromise_ about? Someone’s gettin’ hurt, when someone’s hurt you fucking _help_ them, whether you like them or not!”

“Has it occurred to you that the best way to _help_ may be to _not_ get involved?” Chica asked him, raising a brow at him. Bonnie scowled right back. “They’re always together, clearly they’re just as close as us five are. They don’t need us when they have each other.”

The way Bonnie was staring at her told her that Bonnie was _definitely_ not seeing it her way. _They’re always together, all of them have four other people to lean on- people who understand._

However, that in itself seemed to be the problem. “Oh yeah,” the rabbit snorted before putting on a mockingly chipper voice, oddly reminding Chica of Dr. Schmidt. “Yeah, let Rodriguez rely on Fischbach, both of whom have _bled_ in the last three days. Or better yet, let them rely on Blanc- the kid who barely pays any attention to where they’re going. Or Salvage, who’s apparently having family problems and is having to play the role of _parent_ already.”

 _The role of parent._ It seemed like Bonnie hadn’t told them everything after all. Instead of asking, however, she gave Bonnie a warning look and said, “Bonnie.”

He wasn’t about to listen to her, though, she realized as he scowled at her and said, “Their foundation is unstable, Chica. Face it. What happens to houses built on unstable foundations? They _collapse._ ”

 _That’s irrelevant,_ Chica thought, narrowing her eyes at Bonnie. _These are_ people, _not_ houses, _Bonnie._ “These are people, Bonnie, not houses,” she started, but the rabbit didn’t even hesitate to cut her off yet again.

“What happens if Rodriguez gets killed, Chica? Or Fischbach- or _any_ of them? What then? If it takes all _five_ of them to be an _unstable_ foundation, what happens when _one_ of them falls?” The rabbit didn’t even give her a chance to answer, barreling on with, “They _all_ fall, that’s what!”

 _That isn’t fair,_ she thought, staring at her friend. He stared back at her, his red eyes like burning steel, and she knew Bonnie wasn’t going to let it go. _Ya can’t just say that. Ya don’t know what’s goin’ on. Ya can’t say that._

“You don’t know that,” Foxy mumbled, unconsciously echoing Chica’s thoughts. His voice, however, held no conviction. “You’re suggestin’ things again, Bonnie. Things that might not be true at all.”

“They’re troubled,” Goldie suddenly spoke up, his voice quiet as the van came to a stop, “but they’re not... _that_ troubled, are they?”

_We don’t know._

It was a miserable thought- because if Bonnie was right about _anything,_ it was that they _didn’t know_ just how bad off their classmates were.

The only thing they knew was that there was some kind of trouble.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Freddy softly told them, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his bag as Goldie cut the ignition off. “The simple fact of the matter is _we don’t know_. And that’s a problem.”

Chica watched the bear set his hand on the door handle, but then he paused and looked around at all of them, frowning slightly. “I don’t know about you,” he started slowly, “but I don’t want to keep being one more crack in their foundation. If their foundation, as Bonnie is suggesting, is unstable and _breaking_...” he paused, as if unsure about his next words. Chica had a feeling she didn’t want to hear them.

“I don’t want to be the thing that breaks it.”

Then he was out the door and walking up to the house, leaving the four of them in the car. It didn’t take a genius to know what Freddy meant.

He was done with standing on the sidelines.

_All it took for him was three days, and he’s completely throwing aside everything we know about them... but... did we ever actually know anything?_

“I don’t either,” Bonnie muttered, roughly opening his door and jumping out to follow Freddy. The silence that they were left in was heavy, and Chica felt like her heart was beating too fast, too hard.

Their minds were made up, and Chica knew nothing she could say or do would change them. Freddy and Bonnie knew more than the rest of them put together, though- really, she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Goldie’s door opened and he barely glanced back at them before sliding out and following the other two. In that glance Chica could see it in his eyes; he was with Bonnie and Freddy.

It was a situation that she had never imagined happening; her and her friends were divided.

“I’m such a fucking hypocrite,” Foxy muttered, prompting her to look at him. His ears were flat and he was scowling, but he was rubbing his hand over his eyes.

“Why d’ya say that?” Chica asked, finally unbuckling her seatbelt and opening her door.

“Because I’ve already tried to talk to Blanc,” he mumbled, not looking up at her. Chica paused, staring at him in surprise.

“What?”

“I tried callin’ ‘em last night,” Foxy sighed, dropping his hand into his lap to hit the release button. “They didn’t pick up, but still I already tried what the others’re suggestin’, and now I’m over here gettin’ mad about ‘em wantin’ to do what I already tried.”

 _Foxy tried contacting Blanc._ It was an odd, surprising thought; Foxy, who had been the most adamant that nothing was going on, that they shouldn’t get involved if something _was..._ had already tried contacting and asking Blanc about it.

He was the very first to do exactly what he was protesting.

 _Yeah... you_ are _a hypocrite..._

“It’s just been botherin’ me,” Foxy confessed, grabbing his bag off of the seat next to him. He still refused to meet her eyes. “Somethin’ isn’t right with that fox, and I can’t help but think it’s a lot more than them bein’... imaginative, or whatever.”

“So... you actually agree with them, despite havin’ been arguin’ _against_ them,” Chica surmised, raising a brow at her friend.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to get involved,” Foxy stated, shaking his head at her. “Somethin’ isn’t right and I do think those... er, Salvage and his friends need help, but I don’t think we have a right to even _think_ about _trying_ to be that help.”

She understood. They had been antagonizing- or at least trying to antagonize- those students since middle school; what right did they have to try and reach out to them?

Then again, by that logic...

With a sigh, she ran her hand through her feathers. It wasn’t fair. “If not us, then who?”

“I don’t know.”

Magenta met amber and Chica shared a frown with the fox. Their friends had already made their decision; they were going to try and undo what they had already done. To extend an olive branch, of sorts. To try and... _befriend_ the students they had spent so many years hating. Hating for no real reason.

 _I suppose,_ she thought, _it won’t work if only three-fifths of the group is makin’ an effort._ With that thought, she picked her bag up out of the floorboard and turned to slide out of the door, frowning to herself.

“Then I guess we’ll just have to do.”


	7. Ghost Hands, Chii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This has a sexual abuse scene. If this disturbs you, don’t worry- I understand. I’m squirming as I write it. If you can’t stand to read it, just skip to the bolded marker (oOoOo). The writing might seem a bit awkward, I’m actually very squeamish with sexual abuse- which is one of the reasons I’m including it so heavily in this story.

She wanted to cry. Her insides were twisting with disgust and her throat felt tight, her breathing hitching- and not in the way she was sure the rooster next to her bed liked to assume.

“P-please stop,” she begged, keeping her voice quiet. It still seemed to echo around her in the silent darkness, but it sounded like it was mocking her as no one who heard her plea was willing to save her. It only made her want to cry more.

His hand slid up her stomach and she tried to shuffle away, but his other hand grabbed her shoulder tightly, forcing the small chicken back down. “You know you like it,” the man breathed as he groped her chest. She squeaked, but it definitely wasn’t in pleasure.

_Hands like poison, breath like decay, ghosting across my arm- smile so bitter, eyes so deprived, filling me with alarm..._

“No,” she protested, “I don’t-”

“Be quiet,” he hissed, “you’ll wake your mother. You don’t want her to know what a whore you are, now do you?”

Chii breathed in sharply and closed her eyes. _I’m not a whore..._ The rooster’s hand traveled back down and he rubbed at her thigh, sliding his rough fingers between- much too close for comfort. She could feel the tears slipping from the corner of her eyes, knowing she was powerless.

The one time she had tried to fight him had landed her at Spring’s house, begging him for the help that he didn’t even hesitate to give. Her beak had never been the same since, nor had her will to fight.

So she laid there and took it, quietly protesting and begging him to stop as he forced his hand into her shorts, pressing his fingers against her “flower” as he so often referred to it as. The metaphor disgusted her... that something so innocent and beautiful could be ruined by this one man’s words.

_Like death’s lover he comes every night, doing what he wills- not even worried about the soul his loathing kills..._

“Does that feel good?” he asked as he slipped his fingers under her panties, pressing them against her clit. She whimpered at the feeling of his rough hands, the revulsion twisting in her stomach. She shuddered and he grinned. “I knew it...”

The young teen felt sick as his hands slowly moved. She couldn’t try to get away; his hand was pressing against her shoulder, keeping her pinned in place, and her arms were trapped under her blanket. He leaned over her, hand snaked up under the side of her comforter and sheets. His scent surrounded her- engulfed her- _suffocated_ her.

She couldn’t bear to look at his face- his grin that told her he was clearly pleased by whatever power rush this was giving him, his eyes that told her he wanted to do so much more than touch... that face that haunted her dreams since she was only four years old.

Only, her reality and her dreams were the same.

_Without care he takes what he believes is his to claim- and if I were a stronger child, I wouldn’t take his blame..._

**oOoOo**

A sudden sound out in the hallway prompted the adult to retract his hand and relief flooded through her as the hallway light turned.

“Charlie?” a groggy voice called.

“In here, honey,” the man answered, lessening the pressure on Chii’s shoulder. “Little Charlotte just had a nightmare, I was helping her.”

_You are my nightmare._

“Charlotte’s seventeen, Charlie,” the woman sighed as she opened Chii’s bedroom door, raising a brow as she leaned against the doorframe. “If she’s having a nightmare she can deal with it herself. Now come back to bed, hon... Tomorrow is a busy day for us, y’know.”

_She’s talking like I’m not even here..._

“Of course you’re right,” he chuckled and Chii hated how _nice_ and _sincere_ he sounded.

He looked at her mother as if he actually loved her. As if he wasn’t a monster who preyed on the innocence of young girls.

As if he was worthy of being her father.

She watched through stinging blue eyes and her burning humiliation as he stood up and walked over to her mother, wrapping his arm around her waist- the arm with the hand that she could still feel between her legs- and they walked away from the room and back to their own.

The choked sob tore itself from her throat, and she rolled out of bed, hurried over to the door, softly closed it and threw the lock before making her way over to her desk. Chii dropped down in her chair and grabbed a pink and white fox plush that Mangle had given her when she was thirteen- _“when you need comfort, just hug this and think of me. I’m always there for you, Chii.”-_ , hugging it to her chest as she curled up in the seat, knees drawn tightly together and ankles crossing.

She could only be grateful that her mother had woken up- who knew how far the monster would have gone that night? His eyes... the image sent a shudder through her body and she bowed her head, leaning it against her knees as she let the silent tears fall. She was humiliated, she was ashamed... and she was terrified.

His eyes had been hungry.

* * *

She kept a comfortable distance from her friends, a distance none of them tried to breach. They were so understanding and it made her love them all the more; no one else would have ever respected her space the way those four did.

At least, no one that she knew.

None of them looked to be in good shape, but none of them spoke up- it was too early in the car, and at school they were surrounded by people. Before that wouldn’t have bothered them; they could have simply dropped into whispers and everyone would just pass them by, none the wiser. Now, however...

 _That stupid rabbit,_ she silently complained as she and her friends scurried along the gymnasium wall, headed for the most isolated place they knew of. _Stupid Fazcrew... why are they even watching us like that?_

Rounding the corner, all of them relaxed. Now that they were out of sight of the school and the sports tracks- now that there was no chance of anyone watching them- they could let their guard down.

They slowed to a stop near the center of the wall, and without hesitance all of them practically collapsed. Blu was against the wall and Chii was right next to him, leaving several inches of space between, with Mangle on his other side. Across from them Spring and Alfred sat with their backs to the woods beyond, creating an odd, somewhat-broken circle.

The silence was heavy. Nervously, Chii glanced towards Blu. The bruise on his cheek stood out even through his fur. Chii wasn’t even sure she could imagine how hard he must have been hit for that to happen, but she knew it _had_ to hurt.

“What happened last night, Blu?” Spring finally asked, his voice gentle and full of concern.

With a soft sigh, Blu told them, “Mother barged into my room, yelled some, threw a wooden bowl at my head and then hit me.” Chii frowned sharply at the blunt it-is-how-it-is words. Not for the first time, she felt fortunate- even if her skin was crawling, that hand still in her memory... At least she wasn’t being hit on a daily basis. “On the bright side,” the rabbit added, as though anything could make what happened okay, “no blood last night. Just a horrible headache and I ache everywhere, but I’ll be fine when I get some sleep.”

Chii shared a look with her friends, frowning at the response. She didn’t care _how_ Blu twisted that; he shouldn’t have been hurting in the first place.

“When was the last time you slept?” Mangle asked, concern lacing their voice.

“Uh, yesterday at Spring’s house,” Blu answered, and Chii frowned.

_Twenty minute naps don’t count as sleep._

“No, _real_ sleep,” the fox sighed. “Like... a full night’s sleep. Dreams and all.”

Based on Blu’s expression, Chii had a feeling the answer was not one any of them would like.

“Ah, um,” the rabbit started, frowning and glancing skywards as if in thought. “Saturday night I think?”

Chii gasped, lifting a hand to her mouth. She had been expecting _Monday_ or maybe even _Sunday,_ but _Saturday?_

_That was three nights ago!_

“You need sleep!” she cried, worried. _What if he collapses?!_ “That’s not good for you, you could pass out!”

“I’ll sleep tonight,” Blu assured her, “even if I have to go to the old fort.”

Any assurance that sentence _might_ have brought quickly fell away. _The old fort. We stopped going there_ years _ago... oh Blu, don’t tell me you..._

Spring, apparently wanting to give their friend the benefit of the doubt, said, “The old fort? We haven’t been there in nearly six years, Blu, it’s a deathtrap now...” Blu’s expression tightened, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Spring’s eyes widened in horror, and Chii could feel the worry seeping into her own bones. “Oh my god, _please_ tell me you haven’t been running off there by yourself, Blu...”

The blue rabbit glanced away, guilt dancing in his eyes, and Chii could practically see the panic setting into Spring. Apparently Blu realized it, too, as he quickly started, “It’s not often! J-just when I can’t stand staying home and, I just- I don’t want to bother you guys all of the time...”

That was _not_ the right thing to say. Chii wanted to cry.

“Blu, you know you can always come to my house,” Spring started, his tone almost desperate and _afraid._ “Anything could have happened at that old treehouse, Blu- you could have fallen through the floor and broken your neck and we wouldn’t have even _thought_ to look there for you...!”

_Isn’t that the understatement of the century? I had almost forgotten about that old treehouse..._

“Spring,” Alfred interrupted the rabbit. Chii watched as Spring flinched and glanced towards the bear. “He’s fine.”

“But anything could have happened,” Spring protested weakly. Part of Chii wanted to reach out to him, but another part of her felt revulsion at the mere thought.

She felt useless; she couldn’t even comfort her friends when they needed her.

“But it didn’t,” Alfred countered before turning his eyes to Blu, a frown in place. “But it would... be... best to... not go there.”

Blu just looked absolutely torn apart at Alfred’s words. Maybe because it was the first time Alfred had ever felt obligated to force words towards him.

Chii closed her eyes; Blu tried so hard to make them all happy, being a source of Alfred’s discomfort would be a huge blow to him...

“Next time please come to me instead,” Spring practically begged, his voice quiet and completely exhausted. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t care if it’s one in the morning, just don’t go _there_ again.”

Blu didn’t give a verbal response, but Spring didn’t say any more on it so clearly he _had_ responded.

“How are all of you holding up?” Blu asked, diverting the attention away from his own situation. Chii couldn’t blame him; there was nothing more for him to say.

Opening her eyes, Chii watched her friends. Unconsciously, she crossed her legs one over the other as Spring’s ears flopped down, Mangle looked away, and Alfred’s gaze was settled on the ground.

All of them looked absolutely miserable. Chii didn’t want to tell them, not yet- she could still feel him, the disgust and loathing still twisting in her gut, her skin still crawling as rough, uncaring fingers dragged along her feathers...

“I, uh, forgot to take my medicine this morning...” Spring started, shattering the silence that had settled. Chii’s breath hitched- whether in surprise at the sound of his voice or his words, she wasn’t sure. “Plushie had the nightmare man dream again,” he added before any of them could ask.

She glanced aside, the silence allowing her a moment to ponder the “nightmare man.” He wasn’t _really_ a man- not a human man, anyway- but he definitely _was_ a nightmare. She couldn’t even begin to count how many marks that thing parading as a father had left on Spring and Plushie- and she didn’t know how much he had messed with Mimi, either...

The silence was suffocating. _I should be grateful my problems aren’t so bad..._

“Charlie came into my room again,” she spoke up suddenly, his name leaving a bad taste in her mouth. “Tried to... I... it doesn’t matter,” she said in a rush, refusing to meet any of their eyes. _I can’t say it. I can’t._

None of them tried to touch her, thankfully. None of them reached out to her, and even though she knew they meant no harm- even though she knew none of them would hurt her- she was still grateful that they understood her need for space.

She knew they believed she was in a bad situation, but... it wasn’t nearly as bad as theirs. _I can deal. Just be there for them, Chii. Just be there. It’s the best you can do._

“My parents got mad when I tried to... _refuse,”_ Mangle spoke next, prompting Chii to glance across at them. Their gaze was firmly on the ground. “Grabbed the switch and... Well, I won’t be wearing shorts for a while.”

Mangle had the worst of all worlds, as far as Chii was concerned. Parents who weren’t afraid to beat them... and “customers” who could do whatever they wanted to the fox. Just the thought of the choice Mangle had to make- being beaten or being violated- made Chii squirm in discomfort.

 _They understand all of us,_ she thought sadly. Sometimes Chii wished no one could understand. _They understand the boys and they understand me..._

Several moments of silence passed before Alfred spoke up. “Dad hit me with a bottle again,” he started, and Chii looked up with a frown. The last time the bottle had actually hit Alfred had been pretty bad, but Alfred had managed to avoid the worst of it... “In the back and shoulder.” Apparently unable to find a way to describe exactly what happened, Alfred began rolling his left sleeve up to his shoulder to show the spotty bandage. “It... wasn’t close to empty.”

The mere _thought_ of that made Chii cringe. She had never, personally, been exposed to alcohol- her mother refused to allow it in the house- but she had read some of Alfred’s writings about it... about the burning pain it could send searing through your veins should it ever fall on an open wound...

“Don’t think I got all the glass out,” Alfred added. “Won’t stop bleeding.”

She wanted to cry right then and there. _Poor Alfred..._

“Jesus Christ, why is it always this way...” Blu muttered, and Chii glanced to her right towards him. His forehead was resting against his knees and his ears were flat. He looked broken.

She ached to do something- _anything-_ to ease her brothers’ and Mangle’s pain, but... there was nothing she could do.

Apparently Spring felt much the same way, as he turned to look at the bear beside him and said, “I’ll check for glass for you.” Spring was much braver than Chii, she mused silently as Alfred shook his head. _I don’t think I could deal with looking at it, knowing one of my friends was so badly hurt... and I’m so powerless to stop it..._

“Not now. Later.”

_Later, when we’re safe at Spring’s house away from prying eyes, hiding away from reality and pretending nothing is as bad as it seems._

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the brick wall.

“Well,” Blu suddenly started, “I think all of us deserve a lazy afternoon.”

“We’re not skipping the rest of school,” Spring immediately told the younger rabbit. “We need to save our days for big emergencies.”

 _Big emergencies... like your brother being unable to go to school... or one of_ us _being unable to come to school._

“I actually meant _after_ school,” Blu told Spring, his tone _attempting_ to be light. It fell short. “Come on, we have art in the afternoon, like I’m gonna suggest skipping out on that.”

Chii honestly didn’t feel like going to any more classes, even art. However, she kept her mouth shut.

“Then again I might just crash right after school...” Blu muttered.

“If you make it to after school,” Mangle countered. “Honestly, maybe you should check out...”

“And go where?” Blu shot back. “Besides, I can’t even check myself out, I’m not eighteen. Can’t go to the nurse, she’ll call my parents...”

That would only make matters worse. Chii kept her eyes closed, listening to the thunder rumbling in the distance. _A storm is on its way. I wonder what that means for us..._

_I don’t want to go home..._

* * *

“Alright, class! Homework!”

Chii leaned over to her bookbag and pulled out her math book, flipping it open to the back to pull the packet out. Maybe it was strange to store her science packet inside her _math_ textbook, but she had just happened to be looking over the packet while doing her math homework. It just _happened._

“Pass it up and I’ll collect it at the front,” the instructor commanded, and Chii settled her packet on her desk before turning around.

Mangle wasn’t looking at her. Instead, their gaze was on the front of their binder. Chii let her eyes fall to the binder, and immediately she understood. There was a picture there of the five of them and Spring’s brother.

It was the fourth of July, and they had all spent the entire day and night at Spring’s house. It had turned chaotic in Spring’s room, with both smaller bunnies piling on his lap and begging for him to sing to them while Mangle was leaping from behind with the intent to scare Spring and send both bunnies tumbling (it worked, mind you, and Chii remembered the hysterical laughter from _all_ of them that had followed). Alfred had said something that prompted her to shove him off the bed and sit on him; for the life of her she couldn’t remember _what_ it had been, but it had made them laugh and supplied quite a sight for Spring’s sister when she came to investigate the noise.

 _Oh how much can change in just a year,_ she thought sadly, looking back up at Mangle. That picture in Mangle’s binder wasn’t the last happy, exciting memory they had- they still lived up their youth as much as they could and had plenty of moments over the _last_ summer, especially the fourth- but it _was_ the last time Spring had been so bright-eyed, the last time Alfred had been so open...

Then came November and the news that brought them all to their knees. The news that had shattered the fantasy that they had tried to pretend was reality. The news that changed everything. The news that forced them all to face the truth.

_Nothing is okay._

Mangle looked up, and their golden eyes met Chii’s blue. They shared no words; Mangle just handed their packet to her, and Chii turned around, setting the packet on top of her own just before Dr. Schmidt reached her desk. As the instructor took the packets, Chii continued staring at the desk, neatly folding her hands on top to keep them still.

She bit her tongue, fighting back the instinctive hum building up in her chest.

_That day in November. Nothing’s been the same since._

They tried so hard, of course. They tried _so hard_ to go back to normal, but it was always plaguing them- _what will happen next? Will we get that phonecall again? Will we be too late next time? What if... what if..._ There was always a what-if, and it killed her inside, wearing down on her spirit much the same way she knew it weighed down on them.

_This time, Mimi isn’t here._

“Now that we’ve got the homework out of the way, let’s talk about your first lab,” Dr. Schmidt started, but Chii barely glanced up at him. “You won’t be working on it until Friday, as today we’ll be doing the lecture first, but in it you will be observing how the steel wool reacts to the fire.”

_Steel wool. We did that already, years ago. We’ll be fine._

With that, she turned her gaze back to her folded hands, twiddling her thumbs together. As she shoved the memory of November away, last night forced its way back into the forefront of her mind.

_Like poison, his hands kill my spirit and shred my soul, lingering long after he’s gone and taking its toll, and I try to recover but it’ll never be over..._

She didn’t have a way with words like Alfred did, but sometimes you didn’t _need_ a way with words to make your feeling clear. The fear and disgust from last night welled up in her chest, twisting in her stomach.

Fidgeting, she kept her gaze firmly on her desk, refusing to look around at anyone. She wondered what fantasy Mangle was building for themself and she wished desperately that she could get lost in it with them. Anything was better than _hazel eyes leaning over, grinning maniacally- hungrily- down at her as rough hands held her down and brushed over soft feathers. Deep, gruff voice, distorted horrifically, calling_ beautiful little whore _as he reached out to steal everything from her... and her heart twisted painfully as she begged him to stop-_

“Yes, Mr. Salvage?”

Yanked out of her petrified little nightmare, Chii quickly turned to look at Spring across the room. She took in his drooping ears, his worried green eyes, his slightly-trembling hand, and she just _knew_ that East Preston was calling.

_The nightmare man._

It hurt her heart.

“May I step out for a moment?” Spring requested, his voice shaky and weak and _so nervous._ The instructor had barely given his consent before Spring was out of the door, answering his phone.

“Hello, this is...” she managed to catch before the door shut, blocking out his voice.

Chii turned around, meeting Mangle’s eyes again. _This is bad, Spring doesn’t need this right now,_ she thought sadly, and she could see the sentiment reflected in the fox’s eyes.

“Mr. Rodriguez, face the front please,” the instructor commanded, and deciding that she didn’t want to be called out as well, Chii turned around too, twisting her hands together nervously.

_Spring doesn’t need this. Neither does Plushie, but Spring..._

“Now let’s go over lab safety,” Dr. Schmidt continued, but Chii was completely lost to him now.

_He didn’t take his medicine this morning... who knows how he’ll react. It’s been nearly an entire year and his prescription just gets stronger... what if- oh god, an hour is a long time for him to be alone... is one day without his medicine enough to undo everything the past year’s done for him? I don’t know how that works... it’s not like cold medicine..._

She didn’t look up until the door opened again, and when it did her heart sank to see Spring heading towards the doctor- not his seat. He spoke quietly- too quietly for Chii to catch- and Dr. Schmidt just nodded in understanding.

“Very well,” he agreed, picking up a small packet and a worksheet from his desk. “I expect these to be done by Friday, Mr. Salvage.”

Spring just nodded and headed over to his desk, pointedly ignoring all of the curious and confused eyes on him.

 _Plushie needs to go home._ She knew that without even asking him, sadly watching him pack up and head out the door.

The moment the door closed, silence reigned. Then the instructor continued, but no one’s heart was in it. Everyone was either bored or heartsick.

Chii’s gaze fell to the desk again, feeling a stinging in her eyes. _Why can’t things go right for once in our lives..._

The air was heavy and no one spoke, not even the human girls next to her. Everything aside from Dr. Schmidt’s suddenly-tired voice... was deathly silent.

She was scared.

* * *

Spring was there to pick them up just as Chii knew he’d be, but still the sight of his chevy sent relief flooding through her system. Silently, they all slipped into the car- Chii in the front passenger seat, Mangle behind her, Alfred center, and Blu behind Spring- and headed through the parking lot, intent on beating the traffic out.

Most of the other juniors and seniors were standing around, chatting amiably and just being _normal._ Chii and her friends had never been among their numbers.

Hesitantly, she glanced towards Spring. The radio was on, preventing it from being completely silent in the car, but she knew they needed to ask. “Spring?” she spoke quietly. The rabbit barely glanced at her, but his hands tightened on the wheel.

“He had a nightmare during the class nap,” he explained, eyes on the road. “I knew he would... he woke up screaming and crying. Scared the other children half to death and it took his teacher ten minutes to calm him down enough to call me...”

Chii frowned, looking down towards the floorboards where her ankles were crossed. “Why was he at school if you knew he would have a nightmare?” she asked, glancing up towards Spring again.

She didn’t blame him, of course, but it was an honest question. She couldn’t imagine him willingly letting Plushie go when he knew the poor kit might have a nightmare.

“He begged me to let him go,” he answered softly. “I think... he wanted to try and be normal. I’m scared he might feel lonely and isolated... I just... He...”

_He’s so much like you..._

Spring was struggling, but he kept his eyes on the road, refusing to look over at her. “I don’t know what to do anymore...”

“It’ll be alright, Spring,” she tried to assure him as gently as she could. “He’s gotta grow up sometime...”

“But he doesn’t have to grow up alone,” Spring argued, though his voice lacked any true energy. “We already did that... _I_ grew up so he wouldn’t _have_ to do that.”

She didn’t want to tell him that _family isn’t always enough._ Spring was his brother- at this point, Spring was practically his father- and they had a bond as strong as any Chii had ever seen... but simply put, Spring was an authority figure to Plushie- someone he could play with, rely on and seek comfort from, but not someone he could always _confide_ in. He was someone who Plushie had learned would protect him and take care of him, but when he did something bad Spring was also the one to punish him.

Spring had purposefully taken over the role of _parent_ to Plushie, and even though he had always made it clear to Plushie that they were _brothers,_ Plushie still had that attachment and association to _him..._ not to their mother or their mother’s husband, and not to his or Spring’s fathers, not even to their older sister, but to _Spring._

Having a parent and having a friend just wasn’t the same.

“Spring, he has to get to know other people now,” she told him as gently as she could. “The only way he won’t be alone or feel lonely is to have more people his own age, who he _isn’t_ related to, to associate with and confide in.” She paused, frowning at her friend. His eyes were on the road and his hands were clutching the steering wheel tightly, but from what Chii could see he didn't seem to be reacting badly. “Just like you. Remember? It was years before you began seeing Mimi as an equal rather than an authority, and she's only two or three years older than you... and you went to us more than you ever went to her. Plushie’s the same.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Spring sighed forlornly, turning off of the highway. “If he’s just like me, then...”

“I think,” she started, frowning as she realized what he was getting towards, “there’s plenty of time to catch it if it happens to him too. You’re doing your best to raise him well,” she added, glancing towards the window. “And now we know the signs. If he begins showing any, we can catch it before it gets to this level...”

“Guys, I think Blu fell asleep,” Mangle spoke up suddenly, interrupting the conversation. Blinking, Chii looked over her shoulder towards the blue rabbit. The fox was right; his head was leaning against the window, his eyes closed and his body relaxed.

“We should let him sleep,” Spring suggested, reaching over and turning the radio off. It left them in silence. She frowned, watching Spring’s gaze stay firmly to the road ahead.

_What are you thinking..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to take this time to inform you that it LITERALLY takes hours to update Beneath Their Masks, not including the month or two it takes to actually write. There has GOT to be a better way to post chapters...


	8. A Final Straw, Chica

“So, when exactly  _ are _ we doing this?”

Chica shouldered her way past a tall human, glancing quizzically at Goldie before turning back to watch where she was going. The fact that he would ask that in a crowded hallway completely exasperated her-  _ Does he really wanna talk about this here of all places?-  _ but none of the boys seemed perturbed so she just let it go.

“Not at lunch,” Bonnie didn’t even hesitate to answer, and Chica, whose face was turned away from the rabbit, rolled her eyes.  _ Of course we’re not confrontin’ them at lunch, _ she thought, frowning to herself.  _ Literally half the school would be there. _ “Putting them on the spot in front of half the student body would not be a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Goldie agreed, sighing. She briefly glanced at him, noting his eyes on the ceiling above. He looked almost thoughtful as he added, “It’d probably send Salvage into a panic attack. Which would instantly earn the others’ hatred forever, I’m sure.”

Had the circumstances been different, Chica would have laughed at his words. She turned her attention ahead of her again, skirting around a cat and dog who were chatting amicably, completely unaware or uncaring of how they were blocking the hallways.

“Probably, yeah,” Freddy gave. “But we can’t try in math class, either, since Jeggs, Creol, and Walker are in there, too.”

Chica’s eye twitched, thinking about the three students that enjoyed making school hell for everyone- no matter who or what you were, those three had their eyes on you. You, your friends, and your reputation. It was incredibly annoying... and much to Chica’s displeasure, she had to put up with two of them on a daily basis.

_ Well, technically speaking no I don’t, _ she mused, glancing towards her friends.  _ In fact we’ll probably have to drop Creol and Jeggs if we’re really gonna try and get Salvage’s lot on our side. _

“We could just wait until tomorrow,” Foxy suggested, though Chica could tell by Bonnie’s brief frown that it was not an option that would be accepted. “Y’know, when we have to talk to ‘em one-on-one anyway.”

It was a good point, Chica had to admit. She couldn’t help but say, though she was being more sardonic than serious, “Or if ya want we could just wait until Monday. You guys could try in gym.”

She wasn’t serious about the latter part, of course- it was all or nothing, just as they’d all agreed the day before.  _ It’s all of us or none of us, and we chose the former. _ Yes, Chica knew very well that she would not be exempt from their plan, even if Kain appeared to be in much better shape than the other four.

“I don’t think approachin’ ‘em as a group- our group or their group or both- is a good idea, actually,” Goldie started slowly, and Chica almost sighed as she realized he thought she was being serious.

_ I really need to work on my sarcastic voice, I think. _

“Why not?” Foxy asked, clearly confused, and Chica looked over at them to hear the explanation too. Of course she knew  _ why _ it would be bad- approaching them as a group might seem like an attack- but she wasn’t quite following Goldie’s exact train of thought.

“Well,” Goldie started, nearly saintly patience in his voice, “they would probably react to us as a collective but we want ‘em to react as individuals, like they did in Dr. Schmidt’s class that very first day, right?”

_ Ah. _ It made sense; as a collective, they wouldn’t be open. At all. She thought back, remembering how she had noticed Bonnie watching Rodriguez- would Rodriguez have reacted the same way, the way that tipped Bonnie off that something was wrong, had he been with one or more of his friends?  _ And Fischbach appears kinda neutral, but he definitely doesn’t trust us- he puts himself between us and his friends. _

Yes, Chica realized, it made perfect sense. They needed to approach them on an individual basis- something more personal, more...  _ more like hunting, _ she realized, and the thought made her feel almost sick.

_ Separate them from the pack. _

“So basically,” she started, glancing over at them, “we approach them one-on-one, not as groups.” 

“Right,” Goldie said, nodding his confirmation. Chica hesitated, unsure of how to word what she was thinking.  _ Should I go sensitive or blatant? _

She didn’t want to outright compare her friends- or herself- to hunters, but...  _ how do I point that out without insult? _

After a moment or two of thought, she started, “Seems a little... predatorial, doesn’t it?” She looked towards her friends with a frown, clearly conflicted about this. It was one thing to approach them as individuals, but to purposefully approach them when they were vulnerable? “I mean, separate them from the pack...”

There was a brief moment of silence between the friends as they really registered her words, an air about them that told her they didn’t like it any more than she did.

Ever the level-headed one, though, Freddy spoke up and said, “It’s either that or let ‘em influence each others’ reactions.” Chica didn’t have a response, pausing and watching him as he peeked into the classroom. “They’re already suspicious of us, they’ll be on alert even alone- if we approach ‘em as a group or all at the same time it might be seen as some kind of attack and put ‘em on even higher alert.”

She knew he was right, but she sighed and said, “I feel like we’re makin’ war plans.” None of them even attempted to refute her words; that was  _ exactly _ what it felt like, after all. Bad war plans, but war plans all the same. “This is ridiculous,” she added, frustration slipping into her voice, “they’re classmates the same age as us, we should be able to just approach them.”

_ And whose fault is it you can’t? _

_ Shut up, voice of reason. _

None of them answered her, and they all stepped inside the classroom. Freddy and Goldie slid into their assigned seats, and Foxy dropped down into his own behind Goldie. Bonnie and Chica went for the seats next to Goldie and Foxy, respectively, and as they slipped into the seats that they both knew they’d be vacating in the next minute or two, they turned towards Foxy. The twins did the same thing, and all four of them leaned closer to Foxy’s desk in some semblance of a circle.

“So,” Foxy started, his voice low so it wouldn’t carry to the teacher sitting at his desk, “not here and not lunch, but you’re determined to try  _ today?” _ The bell in the hallway let out a warning shriek, but none of them paid it any mind. “With the way they were actin’ yesterday they might not even come today.”

“They’re here,” Freddy was quick to inform them. “I saw them this morning in the hall. They seem much more, ah...” the brown bear trailed off, a small frown tugging at his lips as if he were searching for the  _ right _ descriptor. Chica watched him patiently. “... alive today,” Freddy finished, his tone almost soft as he said the words.

There was a short silence as they took in Freddy’s words.  _ So they’re definitely here, _ Chica mused silently to herself. Aloud, she suggested, “We could try in art.” As if needing to justify her words, she added, “There’s not that many people in there.”

Even as she said it, she remembered a blonde-haired cheerleader squealing as her pencil lead snapped. Chica grimaced;  _ That’s a no-go. _

“Ashley Creol is,” Goldie voiced her thoughts, shaking his head in dismissal. “We approach them within her sight and the rumour mill will go wild.” Chica had to give him that point. Sure, Salvage and his friends gave very little consideration to rumours and the such, but... it would still complicate things for them. “Plus,” the bear continued unexpectedly, “they stick together in that corner- and we  _ definitely  _ don’t want to approach them when they have their backs to a corner.”

_ Good point. _ She frowned as Foxy said, “Yeah, we don’t want that.”  _ Obviously, _ she agreed silently, lightly tapping her fingers on the desk. “Really, I think we should wait for Monday, there’re less conflictin’ factors-”

“Excuse me.”

The voice was soft and somewhat deep, a mostly unfamiliar voice to Chica, and she straightened up to look at the group of friends watching them warily. Foxy’s mouth snapped shut with a painful-sounding  _ clack, _ and Bonnie even from behind looked like a deer in the headlights. Chica noted briefly that Freddy wasn’t shocked at all as he calmly turned around to face the students they had  _ just _ been talking about.

Fischbach cleared his throat and turned to look at Bonnie, specifically. “You’re in my seat,” he said, his expression wary but his tone civil. Chica scanned over the group’s faces, noting they all looked wary and somewhat suspicious, but none of them appeared disturbed or nervous.

_ They didn’t hear us,  _ she realized, and almost immediately she felt her heartrate slow down. She hadn’t even noticed it spike.  _ Thank goodness. _

“Oh-right,” Bonnie muttered, appearing to finally come to his senses as he quickly slid out of the desk. Realizing she was sitting in Kain’s seat, Chica simply stood up and stepped back to her own sitting diagonally back from Kain’s and settled back down, just barely catching Bonnie’s short apology.

Chica watched as the group watched them all suspiciously- quizzically, even- before they slowly split up to take their seats. As Kain sat down, she threw Chica a suspicious glance, but her gaz was on the bear in front of her before Chica could even consider responding.

That was fine, though. Chica had nothing to say.

She hated to admit that she was at a complete loss at how to go forward.

* * *

“Chica, y’know food is for eatin’ and not awkwardly scootin’ ‘round your plate, right?”

Letting out a breath, she glanced up at Foxy, unimpressed. “I had no clue,” she deadpanned, watching the fox snort. “Besides, don’t single me out, Bonnie’s not eatin’ either.”

“That’s ‘cause he’s busy psychoanalyzin’ why little rabbit deigned to inform him he injured,” Goldie spoke up, glancing towards Bonnie. The rabbit in question just rolled his eyes at Goldie’s words, but he made no move to try and correct Goldie so Chica decided there must have been some truth to his words.

“Little rabbit?” Chica questioned, raising a brow at her friend. Goldie’s gaze passed over her shoulder towards the student athletes on her other side. “Ah, right.”

The bell overhead rang, and the students all began standing up. Chica packed away what was left of her lunch and followed suit, heading towards the art room with her friends. There was, of course, no doubt in her mind that there’d be no talking about it in the art studio; every day that week, Salvage’s group were always there long before lunch ended.

“I wonder what’s in store today,” Goldie mused aloud.

“No good, I’m sure,” Freddy answered without missing a beat. “Remember what he said yesterday? Don’t wear your good clothes. Ink stains.”

“What are we supposed to wear then, rags?” Chica snorted, glancing over at her friends. “My parents don’t make a habit of buying me “bad clothes” after all.”

“Mine used to,” Foxy hummed thoughtfully, grinning. “Remember the days o’ youth, lads and lass? When mud puddles were all the rage and jumping in the pond fully clothed was  _ awesome.” _

“You say that as if it’s not anymore,” Goldie joked, lightly elbowing the fox. “Come on, don’t even try to deny, you still jump in your swimming pool in your school clothes.”

“I plead the fifth,” Foxy sniffed mock-scornfully and Chica snorted, shaking her head. However, a glance at Goldie, Freddy, and Bonnie showed that none of them were even smiling.

Instead, the three shared an odd look, as though they had just realized something that neither Chica nor Foxy were privy to. She didn’t get a chance to ask before they reached the art studio and stepped inside.

Mr. Fritz was in the middle of the classroom, setting up a still life, and in the back corner the group of friends were huddled close together, each peering curiously at Salvage’s phone. They looked amused.

Chica glanced towards Foxy who in turn just shrugged, unsure of what to make of it, and they went to set up their easels around the still life. The short time passed and more people filed in, each setting their easels up in a chosen location, and as the bell for class rang Salvage slid his phone in his pocket and went to his own already-set-up easel.

His friends followed suit.

Kain seemed to be saying something to Fischbach, but Chica was unable to catch it from the other side of the studio. Mr. Fritz set his hands on his hips, looking around at all of them with a grin.

“Alright then,” he started as he usually did, “today’s lesson; negative space!” Chica raised a brow as immediately Rodriguez groaned and Kain covered her face with her hands. Salvage and Fischbach just shared a knowing look as Mangle snickered at their friends’ horror. 

The rest of the class, like Chica, had  _ no _ idea what-  _ no, wait, Freddy doesn’t look confused. Dammit, he looked it up, didn’t he? _

“Therefore,” the instructor continued, gesturing towards the still life. “You’re not drawing what you  _ do _ see... but what you  _ don’t _ see.”

There was a brief silence before someone, Chica wasn’t sure who, deadpanned, “What.”

Mr. Smith looked  _ way _ too amused. “Take this for example,” he said, setting his hand on an oddly triangular-  _ pyramidal?- _ vase sitting on top of what looked suspiciously like an industrial-sized toilet paper roll. “Under normal circumstances I would have you draw this,” he emphasized his words by tapping the side of the vase. “However, today you will draw  _ this.” _ He moved his hand to the space between the vase and a candle, moving his finger around the empty space. 

Across the room, Chica noticed that Salvage’s group had already begun drawing.

“So basically we draw the space between the objects?” she summarized amusedly, turning her attention back to the teacher.

“Exactly!” Mr. Smith flashed her a grin. “And to make things better,” he added, strolling over to a shelf next to the storage room, “you’ll be filling in the empty space... with  _ ink.” _

His declaration was met by silence. The human sighed dramatically. “Kids these days,” he muttered, picking a bottle of ink up. “Once you’ve drawn out the negative space, you’ll come over here and pour some of this liquid into a cup.” He tapped a clear plastic cup sitting next to the ink. “You’ll take a paintbrush and fill the negative space in with ink, but be careful- this stuff will ruin clothes.”

With that warning and little else said, the instructor walked away to do... who knows what.

Chica sighed and turned back to her paper, frowning.  _ How do you draw what isn’t there? _ she asked herself, though she already knew the answer. Eying the still life, the chicken began sketching out what she saw- excuse me, what she  _ didn’t _ see.

It was hardly a minute later that her easel jerked and Foxy yelped, tripping over the leg and startling Chica. Blinking, she watched as her backerboard practically leapt at Foxy, landing heavily on his back.

Then she noticed the ink.

Her eyes darted up towards the group across from them, all of whom turned pretty much as one to look at the commotion just to find the thick black liquid flying through the air towards them.

_ Why the hell were you already getting ink?! _ she mentally demanded of the fox, watching as Rodriguez and Blanc both dropped their pencils and darted away. Kain took the more risky approach of diving behind her taller friends, and strangely enough neither of them moved.

Then, before Chica could even blink, the ink hit its mark, spattering across Salvage and Fischbach’s clothes and even their fur in thin tendrils.

Beside Chica, someone began laughing. Unsure of what else she could do, Chica picked the board up off of Foxy’s back. As Freddy quickly stepped over to help Foxy to his feet Chica caught his  _ Oh, shit. _

_ Yeah, oh shit, _ she wanted to say, biting her tongue.  _ We’re s’posed to be gettin’ on their good side! _

Chica honestly wasn’t sure what to expect now, simply waiting to see how Salvage and Fischbach would respond. However, as Kain peeked out from behind them, Salvage simply looked at Fischbach, his surprise slipping into a small grin.

Immediately the chicken was struck dumb;  _ He’s amused? _

“Hey, Al,” the rabbit started casually, “you got a little somethin’ on your shirt.”

_ He’s making a joke of it. _

She watched dumbfoundedly as Fischbach just smirked and tapped his cheek, obviously informing the rabbit without a single word about the spiderweb of ink across his cheek and eye. Salvage’s green eyes widened and his hand flew up to the exact location of the ink, and Chica realized he hadn’t even noticed it.

Salvage’s friends were grinning now, too, clearly amused by their friends’ plight. The chicken allowed herself to relax; they knew it was an accident. They weren’t mad. Foxy’s little trip hadn’t completely derailed everything before they even started.

“Well,  _ Springtrap,” _ a familiar voice laughed from next to Chica, and instantly she tensed up again, glancing over towards Ashley Creol. The cheerleader was leering over towards the unpopular students, leaning on her easel as if it was cool. “Now you’ve got something to match that ugly scar, huh?”

There was a brief silence as Slavage’s friends returned to his side, glaring towards the cheerleader. Salvage’s own expression was rather blank, as though he wasn’t really affected by the insult, but even Fischbach and Kain were eying the cheerleader with ill-concealed anger.

Then something shocking happened.

“Yeah,” Rodriguez started, though his tone was obviously not in agreement as he sneered back at the cheerleader, eyes narrowed, “but it would match  _ so _ much better with your dead black heart.”

_ Oh snap. _

“If she even has one,” Blanc added with a snort, eying Creol. Chica glanced at the cheerleader, noticing her own smirk had slid away to be replaced with shock. 

“True,” the blue rabbit gave, crossing his arms and staring Creol down. It was at that moment Chica was sure she knew what true hatred looked like, but then she glanced at the bruise lingering on the rabbit’s face- the bruise she hadn’t even noticed the day before- and rethought her observation. “Someone like her is nothing but an empty husk, anyway, feeding off of everyone else’s misery.”

There was a brief shocked silence. Chica just barely heard Bonnie mutter, “Damn, he’s never said anything like that about us.” It was true.

Was it ironic, she wondered, that Rodriguez would throw such a heavy insult at Creol when he wouldn’t throw that same insult at his, quote unquote, “worst enemy?”

“What did you say, you Mexican fuck?!”

_ Wait what the  _ fuck  _ did you just say? _

Chica growled, “Excuse me?” under her breath.  _ Mexican fuck, ya say? You insinuatin’ somethin’?! _

“For the record,” Rodriguez drawled, “I’m  _ Spanish, _ not Mexican. Learn geography!”

“Whatever,” Creol scoffed with absolutely no care at all, turning her nose up and looking at her perfectly manicured nails. Chica scowled deeply at her, the harsh gleam in her stare turning into a full-on glare. “You still speak a stupid language, anyway.”

_ The fuck, Creol? _ She took a lot of pleasure in imagining her fist in the human’s face;  _ That’s  _ my _ language and  _ my _ ethnicity you’re insulting! _

“I beg to differ,” she hissed, though it didn’t appear that Creol heard her.

Apparently, Rodriguez didn’t take too kindly to the insult to their shared mother tongue, either, as she heard him snarl. A quick glance showed him a step or two closer and Salvage’s hand on his shoulder, but now even Salvage was glaring at Creol.

It was satisfying at that moment to see so many glaring eyes directed at Creol, especially knowing it was well-earned.

Unable to continue his approach, the small rabbit settled for sneering at the cheerleader. “Oh please,” he started, his voice dripping with venom, “at least Spanish makes  _ sense, _ English is so weird- it’s an amalgamation of different languages.” Chica couldn’t help but have slightly more respect for Rodriguez as he gasped mockingly towards the human, covering his mouth in feigned horror. He clearly did not care that Creol’s lackeys were staring at him angrily. “Oops, sorry, I forgot- bimbos don’t know big words like amalgamation!”

Personally, Chica mused, she herself would have thrown in some Spanish. Just to add insult to injury to the cheerleader. And to watch her squirm in discomfort.

But that was just what  _ Chica _ would do.

Creol fell out of her haughty pose, her cheeks flushed a rather disturbing shade of puce. “I will-” she started, but then suddenly Mr. Fritz was there and  _ when did he even leave? _

“That’s enough, you two!” he interrupted, not quite shouting as he glared between Rodriguez and Creol. Immediately both parties backed down, what seemed like a potential fight dispersing with those four angry words. “Act your age, all of you!”

Chica bit her tongue to keep from spitting out,  _ When she grows up maybe. _

“Sorry, Mr. Smith,” Salvage immediately spoke up, pulling Rodriguez back beside him. “Won’t happen again.”

Rodriguez muttered something, Chica noticed, but Fischbach was the only one who acknowledged him with a slight glare that  _ clearly _ said  _ “shut up.” _

Mr. Smith turned his attention to the entire class, saying, “Get back to work, all of you. Mr. Salvage, Mr. Fischbach, if you need to go home and change clothes, you’re excused.” Notably, neither Animal made a motion to leave. Mr. Smith’s gaze fell on Foxy and Chica could have sworn she heard the fox squeak dreadfully. “No more accidents, Mr. Jones.”

“R-right, got it,” Foxy agreed quickly, nervously.

“Ms. Sanchez,” Mr. Smith suddenly said, and she tensed up as that ticked gaze landed on  _ her, _ “secure your backerboard properly, and Ms. Creol,  _ easels are not for leaning!” _ Chica glanced down, realizing the backerboard was still in her hands. Quickly she set it back on her easel and turned to look at Sanchez, scowling and opening her mouth to tell the girl off. “Mr. Fazbear, get that smirk off your face, and Ms. Sanchez, whatever you’re about to say;  _ don’t.” _

Chica’s beak snapped shut and she settled for glaring at the cheerleader. Then, without a single extra word, Mr. Smith whirled around and stalked back across the room.

The air was tense at best and Chica scowled, turning to properly secure her backerboard this time. Then, too quietly for Mr. Smith to catch, she muttered to the human, “For the record, Creol, Spanish is my first language. And I was  _ born _ in Mexico.”

She turned away from the human to look at her drawing again. No one else said a word.

* * *

“That fucking  _ bitch,” _ Chica immediately burst out the moment the door was closed. That day it was Freddy in the driver seat. “Who the  _ hell _ does she think she is?!”

“Calm down, Chica,” Bonnie started, though his tone clearly stated that he wasn’t any happier about this than she was. “Creol’s a moron but no need to call for her head on a platter.”

“Oh we’ll see about that,” Chica hissed, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. “So much for speaking to them today, by the way.”

“Oi!” Foxy immediately protested, leaning forward from his place in the back. “I was afraid of gettin’ punched or somethin’! It looked like Rodriguez was ready to claw the human’s eyes out, and  _ I’m _ the one who started that mess!”

“I think they knew you trippin’ was an accident,” Freddy sighed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “They were amused right up until Creol started talkin’.”

“But hell, I was not expecting them to actually  _ respond _ to her,” Bonnie sighed, shaking his head.

“Uh, hello?” Chica started, looking at her friends exasperatedly. “The bitch is a racist, if you ask me they should have responded with ink to her face!”

“Isn’t that racist?” Foxy muttered, and he very pointedly ignored the glare Chica sent his way.

“That is  _ not _ what I meant, Foxy, and you know it,” she growled, more than a little ticked off at him for the comment.

“Right, sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said that,” Foxy agreed, holding his hands up placatingly.

“To be honest I  _ was _ kinda hopin’ she’d trip and fall in the ink on the floor,” Freddy admitted, pulling out onto the road. “And I was thinkin’ maybe, y’know, this is the final straw kind’a thing.”

“I really don’t want to associate with a racist,” Goldie deadpanned, perfectly summing up everything the five of them were thinking. “But we do need to think about this rationally, guys.”

“I am,” Chica snarked, crossing one leg over the other and looking out the window. “Not sure if you’ve noticed this, Goldie, but I just  _ happen  _ to be Mexican,” she added sarcastically.

“Yes, I am aware, Chica,” Goldie assured her, “and you’ve got every right to give her the cold shoulder and even tell her to fuck off.”

“Then what’s the problem there?”

“It wasn’t aimed at  _ you?” _ Foxy suggested, though his tone clearly said  _ I know that’s no excuse. _

“Doesn’t matter, racist is racist,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Well... yeah, you’re right,” Goldie agreed with a sigh, unable to refute her words. “I-”

“How about,” Bonnie interrupted suddenly, “we talk about something else.  _ Not _ related to Creol,  _ not _ related to Rodriguez and them,  _ not _ related to school.”

“That seems to be all we’ve talked about this week,” Freddy observed from his place in the front, and Chica let out a soft sigh because about  _ that _ they were definitely right.

“Sunday,” she started, looking back towards them. “Y’all wanna go to the park Saturday, so what’s on the planner Sunday?”

“We could go swimmin’ at our house,” Goldie suggested, looking over the shoulder of his seat. “If it’s not rainin’ we can retract the awning.”

“If it’s rainin’, swimmin’ don’t sound like a good idea,” Freddy snorted, shaking his head. “How about if it’s sunny we swim and if it’s rainin’ we, I dunno, go to the bowlin’ alley or stay in and watch a movie?”

Bonnie coughed a few times, and Chica raised a brow at him as he said, “Jam session.”

“Smooth,” she complimented, leaning forwards with a smirk. “And  _ totally  _ inconspicuous.” Bonnie just grinned back at her, flicking an ear over his shoulder.

“I know, I’m the best at that,” he joked and Chica snorted along with Foxy, leaning back again. “No but seriously, jam session.”

“You always vote jam session,” Goldie sighed dramatically. “Do ya  _ ever _ want to do anythin’ else?”

“Nope!”

Chica couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s matter-of-fact answer, shaking her had at the goofy little grin on his face.  _ Honestly, there are people  _ scared _ of this silly rabbit?  _ She couldn’t imagine ever being scared of him... but then again, she was one of the few people allowed to see him with that ridiculously cheesy grin of his.

She was suddenly reminded of the time he threw her in the swimming pool when they were twelve... fun times. She was, as Miss Mattie-Mae and the Fazbears had said later, “spittin’ mad” and chased him throughout the entire Fazbear manor, only stopping when they both ran straight into “papa Fazbear” as they had always affectionately called him. 

The other three boys were practically dying of laughter out by the pool. She rectified that by pushing them all in when they least expected it.

It was glorious.

“What are you thinkin’ about, Chica?”

Blinking, Chica realized she was grinning and Bonnie was looking at her with a raised brow. In front of them the twins were talking about something or other, and Foxy looked as though his attention was split between them, Bonnie and Chica, and the world passing by outside his window.

“Eh,” she started dismissively, “just remembering that summer day when we were twelve.”

“Which summer day?” the rabbit asked conversationally, settling back in his seat. A quick glance out the window showed Chica they were, once again, headed to the Fazbear’s home. 

“Y’know, that time you threw me in the pool and I chased you through the house,” she expanded, turning her gaze back to him. “And then you just stood there and watched me push these three cretins in.”

“Who’s a cretin now?” Freddy immediately asked and Chica snorted, glancing at the suddenly-attentive bears in the front seats.

“Of course you’d tune in for that,” Bonnie laughed, looking towards the driving bear. 

“I remember that day,” Foxy sighed happily from behind Bonnie. “What a fun day that was.”

“Except that Chica was wearin’ white,” Goldie snorted. “Lookin’ back on it-”

“If ya wanna be able to talk later, Goldie, I suggest ya shut up,” Chica warned him, though her threat was empty. She would  _ never _ hurt her friends, and they all knew that.

Still, Goldie just laughed. “Got it,” he assured her, throwing her a mock salute through the side mirror. She grinned.

She really loved her brothers.


	9. Love and Lies, Chii

Chii hummed softly to herself as Spring and Blu set their guitars into the trunk of the malibu, both rabbits laughing about something or other- an inside joke, Chii figured. They all had them, of course; they spent time one-on-one with each other after all. Occasionally. When they needed someone but not everyone is available.

You know, every once in a blue moon when they aren’t all together already.

Yeah.

After they all set their bags into the car, they all climbed into the car; Chii in the front, Mangle behind them, Blu center, and Alfred on Blu’s other side behind Spring. Spring started up the car as they all buckled their seatbelts and he briefly adjusted the mirrors.

“It’s always so nice after it rains,” Blu sighed from his place in the back. Chii glanced over at him, noticing him leaning against the back of the seat, his arm resting casually on Mangle’s shoulder. The fox in question had a devious smirk on their face, and Chii had no doubt they were plotting _something_ for the playful little rabbit next to them. “Well, y’know, except when it’s hot as hell and the air is heavy and disgustingly wet, but still.”

“That’s called summer,” Spring chuckled, putting the car in drive and pulling out of his “parking spot.” The driveway to the gate was pretty long, but they were used to it; the mansion was set pretty far back from the road, after all, closer to the park and lake than it was to the street.

Not that any of them had any complaints about that.

“Summer in the south,” Mangle snorted, eying the blue rabbit. “Every single summer. Ever.”

“Thank goodness for air conditioning, huh?” Chii laughed, even though they actually spent just as much time outside in the heat or cold as they did inside.

“Hear hear,” Alfred agreed, smiling over at her.

“I can’t wait for summer to end,” Blu sighed as Chii turned back around, watching Spring hop out of the driver’s seat and open the gate. “And then for fall and winter to end, and then summer come again. Less than a year to freedom...”

“That’ll be nice,” Chii hummed in agreement, leaning against the window. The gate was being opened. “November won’t be easy, though.”

There was a brief silence as all four of them watched Spring walk back over to the car. Chii knew she shouldn’t have mentioned it, but it was something they would have to face eventually- maybe not to Spring, but the four of them had to talk about it at _some_ point. They had to figure out exactly what they would do.

_November is only a few months away,_ she thought, playing with her feathers. _We have to face it sooner, not later._

“We finally have enough for the guitar,” Mangle murmured. “Let’s focus on the good, not the bad.”

“Will Spring even want to celebrate?” Chii asked softly. “The bad far outweighs the good this time. It’s only been a year.”

None of them answered her as Spring opened the door and slid back in.

“So,” Spring started, glancing over at Chii. He had clearly noted the tense silence. “About this weekend-”

“Still on,” Mangle immediately responded, as if daring anyone to contradict them.

“Why would we cancel?” Chii asked Spring, raising a feathery brow at him. “We’ve been through worse than yesterday.”

Spring snorted, shaking his head as he pulled out. He stopped before getting to the road. “I wasn’t saying cancel,” he informed them, slipping back out to close the gate. “I was asking what we’ll do Sunday,” he added as he hopped over to the gate and closed it, shaking it a bit to make sure it latched. He was back in the car before any of them could really think about his question. “We’re doing war by the water and just general music messing around Saturday, so what about Sunday?”

Chii hummed and watched her friend as they finally pulled out onto the street. The morning light was dimmed by the cloud cover. “I dunno,” she started, glancing over towards him. “Is Mimi coming home this weekend?”

“I don’t know,” Spring admitted with a small frown. He didn’t look over at her. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Well,” Chii sighed, “maybe we can wing it?”

“Wing it,” Mangle snorted behind Chii, and Chii was tempted to turn around and throw a pencil or something at her friend.

“Pun not intended,” she added, glancing over her shoulder to Mangle and the boys in the back.

“Last time we, uh, _winged_ something,” Blu spoke up, raising a brow at Chii, “we ended up setting a grill on fire.”

“I told you not to use so much lighter fluid,” Spring tsk’d, eyes flicking momentarily to the mirror. “And it wasn’t the grill that was on fire, it was the charcoal. And the tree above it.”

“On the bright side,” Mangle laughed, a grin spreading across their muzzle, “it was quite an enjoyable show.”

“Right up until the firefighters came swooping in,” Spring sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly, that was awkward to explain.”

“But fun,” Blu countered with a grin. Alfred very lightly nudged their friend as if in disapproval, but Chii caught the hint of a smirk on his own face.

“Behave,” Alfred commanded softly to the rabbit and Chii laughed.

“Blu, behave?” she questioned, turning back around to face the road. “That’s a good one, Alfred.”

“Hey, I can behave,” Blu complained, a small giggle slipping through as he did. Chii smiled, and a quick glance over at Spring showed that he was smiling too. That was good.

“Maybe when the planets align,” the golden rabbit said, turning into the school parking lot. Only teachers were present that early in the morning, so the student parking lot was completely empty.

“On a supermoon,” Mangle added, the grin clear in their voice.

“A blue supermoon,” Alfred expanded, earning a snort from all of them.

“Aw, c’mon,” Chii giggled, unbuckling her seatbelt as Spring pulled into his parking spot. “Blu can be good when he wants to be.”

“Well thank goodness I never want to be,” Blu laughed as Alfred opened his door and slid out, and the rabbit leapt out, stretching his arms above his head. Spring popped the trunk without prompting, and the two Animals headed around back. “Can you imagine just how boring _that_ would be?”

Chii laughed and slid out of her seat, bumping the door shut with her hip. “You sure do make things interesting,” she agreed, waiting for Mangle to climb out and close their own door before making her way to the trunk as well. Alfred handed her both her school bag and a lunch bag. The lunch bag wasn’t really hers; it was Mimi’s old navy-and-black bag, but Spring let her borrow it since they were all carrying their lunches individually and Chii’s school bag simply wasn’t large enough to carry her lunch as well. “I think we’d all die of boredom without you.”

“To say the least,” Mangle snorted, hitching their bag up on their shoulder as Blu and Spring slid the straps to their guitar cases over their heads. Alfred calmly slid his bag onto his uninjured shoulder, giving Chii a small smile of amusement. Chii returned it, feeling oddly at ease for once.

“Come on,” Alfred suggested after Spring had closed the trunk. “We shouldn’t keep Fitzgerald waiting.” The bear’s speech had slowed somewhat when he said the music director’s name, careful and effortful with his voice threatening to die in the middle, but neither Chii nor the others pointed it out. They were used to it, after all.

“Yeah,” Spring agreed, heading towards the school building. “We really don’t want to get lectured by him.” Chii shared a look with the others before following, holding the borrowed lunch bag securely.

_No,_ she figured, watching Blu bound up to walk beside Spring, _we really don’t. Last time was bad enough._

* * *

Mr. Fueller’s smile was too bright, too wide, for Chii’s liking.

That, she had decided the first day of math. This day, however, there was an odd stirring among the students as the instructor made his way around, leaning much too close to students as he pointed out their mistakes, and Chii knew that she wasn’t the only one getting bad vibes from the mathematician.

He reminded Chii of Charlie, and instinctively she crossed her ankles one over the other. She fidgeted, her skin crawling as his eyes passed over her. Thankfully, however, he didn’t approach her, and relief flooded her system as his gaze moved on to someone else.

The silence practically echoed around her, only the sound of pencil on paper, a frustrated huff now and then, and the instructor’s low voice tearing through the thick blanket. Everyone seemed somewhat tense, though whether it was because of the instructor or because of something else Chii simply didn’t know. After what felt like an eternity, however, the bell rang, and students practically flew out the door, a few of them even leaving their worksheets behind.

Students filed out and a shout from the hallway told Chii that the tension had finally gotten to one or two of the more aggressive students. Mr. Fueller ran out the door, leaving only Chii, her friends, and the Fazcrew.

The Fazcrew headed towards the door as Chii’s friends all congregated at Alfred’s desk, and she stood up to join them.

“First week of school,” Mangle started with a sigh as they leaned on Alfred’s desk, “and there’s already a fight. It’s like this place is full of brutes.”

“Give them a break, Mangle,” Spring started, his voice soft and understanding. “They’re just letting off steam.”

Chii raised a brow towards the golden rabbit. It was odd that Spring, with his natural inclination towards peace, would so easily excuse violence. _He hasn’t had his medicine today or yesterday..._

The fox began to open their mouth, assumedly in response to Spring’s words, but a fleshy _smack_ sounded, causing all of them to turn and look towards the doorway. Jones was stumbling backwards, his hands flying up to his nose which had collided with the doorframe that he had just walked into.

Blinking owlishly, Chii simply watched as Jones yelped in pain and Henderson immediately burst out laughing. She frowned, crossing her arms; she didn’t see what was so funny. That fleshy smack had sounded like it _hurt._

“Stop laughin’!” Jones growled towards his friend, clearly also not finding the situation very funny either.

“Never!” Henderson declared, either oblivious to or not caring about their audience.

What goes around comes around and anything that goes up must come down, Chii mused as Henderson promptly tripped over a desk’s legs. She winced at the sound of his arm hitting the desk and the metal beneath it- how he managed _that_ one she had no idea- but the way her friends tensed up concerned her much more than their “enemy” rabbit’s safety; she looked around at her friends, noting the way Blu’s face pinched slightly in perceived pain, the way Spring rubbed his chest, the way Mangle’s gaze lifted to the ceiling, how Alfred’s eyes seemed darker than usual...

Blu caught her gaze and forced a smile, but Chii knew the truth. “It’s fine,” he lied, as if she _couldn’t_ see the memories in his eyes.

“You don’t look like it’s fine,” she accused quietly, and Spring’s hand dropped away from his chest. Blu didn’t say anything else.

“We should get to English,” Spring started, glancing around at all of them. Alfred nodded, Mangle didn’t react, and Blu frowned. Chii crossed her arms, unsure if she should speak up. Her friends looked more than mildly disturbed by what had happened- no doubt memories from what they themselves had been through spurred by that _sound..._ “It sounds like the fight’s over.”

He was right. The sounds in the hallway had quieted into the general murmur of students trailing off to their next class. Chii sighed silently and glanced over at Alfred, who carefully took Mangle’s arm. Mangle was _really_ out of it, she noticed.

“Yeah,” Blu agreed, turning away from them and towards the now-empty doorway. “Before we’re late. I swear Mrs. Mittel has it out for us.”

It was more than slightly true. Chii grimaced; ever since Mangle had just blurted out their observation... well, Mrs. Mittel never forgave them. _Any_ of them.

After all, even to some of the teachers they were a collective.

“The let’s go,” Spring sighed, and they headed towards the door. Chii shared a brief look with Blu before following.

Something seemed off, she thought, glancing over her shoulder towards Alfred silently guiding Mangle along the hallway.

_Something seems very off... but what?_

* * *

Chii knew a moment before it happened that Jones was going to trip.

In fact, as she watched him pass Sanchez’s easel, she thought, _he’s gonna trip, isn’t he?_

And then he did, his foot getting caught on the leg of the easel much the same way Henderson’s caught on the desk just earlier that day. The easel jerked and Sanchez’s eyes widened as her backerboard dropped off, landing on the heap of fox on the floor.

That wasn’t what had Chii’s attention, though.

As the fox fell, everything in his hands fell, too; the pencils hit the floor and scattered every which way, their lead snapping from the force, and the paintbrush for his ink clattered and rolled under Henderson’s easel, and the plastic cup of ink... well, impressively it landed on its bottom.

Unimpressively, it proceeded to shatter upon impact and send the ink flying into and through the air.

Flying right at them.

Chii didn’t even think before she dove behind Spring, not even considering what would happen if the golden rabbit actually _moved;_ she just did the first thing her instincts told her to. She heard Blu yelp as he darted out of the line of fire, almost running straight into the back row table, and Mangle practically leapt up onto the counter they were next to to avoid getting hit.

Neither Spring nor Alfred moved, though Chii knew they had time.

Of course, maybe it just happened too fast for either of them to realize what was going on.

The ink splattered across the floor and Chii’s friends, and Alfred reacted almost immediately. There was a beat of silence before someone in the room began laughing- a pretty laugh, Chii assumed, but a bit screechy in her opinion, too loud and obnoxious.

They didn’t care, though. They’d been laughed at before.

Chii stepped out from behind her rabbit shield, glancing at the ink spiderwebbing across their shirts and, in Alfred’s case, his right arm. Spring had a tendril of ink right across his eye, but he didn’t seem to be in any sort of discomfort or pain so she figured it was safe to assume that it hadn’t actually gotten _in_ his eye.

Spring turned his gaze to Alfred and Chii smiled a bit, noticing the spark of mischief light up in his eye.

“Hey Al,” the rabbit started with a grin, apparently not at all agitated by Jones’ misstep. “You got a little somethin’ on your shirt.”

The bear smirked right back at Spring and Chii giggled, watching as their quiet friend simply tapped his cheek, saying without a single word- well, everything. Spring instantly understood, his eyes widening and hand flying up to the ink on his face, and Chii tried not to laugh, realizing he hadn’t even realized it was there.

Just when Chii thought the potential disaster was over, a familiar voice piped up with, “Well, _Springtrap,_ now you’ve got something to match that ugly scar, huh?”

The air, which had relaxed somewhat after Spring’s little joke, immediately tensed up again as Spring, Alfred, Chii, Blu, and Mangle all looked towards Ashley Creol, eyes hard.

There were few things they could forgive. As much as they hated that awful nickname _Springtrap,_ they at least understood it was created by an immature middle schooler who just wanted to fit in. It had been used sneeringly and jokingly and even disgustedly, but the amount of malice the cheerleader had in her voice and face made it clear that it was said purely for insult _and_ injury.

It wasn’t just a “name” to her.

What was worse, though, was her mentioning his scar.

His _scar._

Chii felt disgust twist in her stomach and she scowled towards the cheerleader, stepping back around Spring. _You don’t even know how he got that scar, you little..._

“Yeah,” Blu suddenly spoke up, and Chii realized he had rejoined them, staring down Creol. His back was to Chii, somewhat between Spring and the cheerleader, so she couldn’t quite see his expression. She could, however, easily imagine the sneer on his lips. “But it would match _so_ much better with your dead black heart.”

“If she even has one,” Mangle added, sniffing and flicking their tail disdainfully as they watched the cheerleader. Chii had to stifle a satisfied smirk as Creol’s face turned an unattractive shade of red.

“True,” Blu snorted in agreement, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one leg. Although he didn’t turn to look at Mangle as he responded, he continued, “Someone like her is nothing but an empty husk, anyway, feeding off of everyone else’s misery.”

The words were harsh and true, and no one could deny it. No one even spoke up to _try_ to deny it. In fact, everyone else simply watched the interaction with mixed surprise, dread, and interest.

_This is the first time we’ve engaged anyone in a fight,_ she realized, looking back at Creol as she stood up straight, a snarl on her lips. _Blu, why did you respond?!_

“What did you say, you Mexican fuck?!”

Any thought that this altercation may have ended peacefully practically imploded with the human’s words and Chii’s eyes narrowed. There was a general shifting in the room, displeasure at the girl’s words practically ringing around the air.

Surprisingly, Blu was the one who seemed to have the least displeased reaction. “For the record,” he started calmly, and she could practically _hear_ the sneer in his voice despite his more relaxed demeanor, “I’m _Spanish,_ not Mexican! Learn geography!”

_And he wasn’t even born_ in _Spain._

“Whatever,” Creol scoffed, lifting her head up as though she was so far above them. Nearby her, the Fazcrew threw her dirty looks; Sanchez looked the most offended of them all.

_Sanchez was born in Mexico, wasn’t she? Ah, yeah, she was..._

“You still speak a stupid language anyway,” Creol finished off, apparently oblivious to the chicken just to her right glaring holes into her head. Blu snarled and started forwards, but Spring quickly reached over and grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from taking that threatening step forwards.

_Only Creol could ever be afraid of Blu,_ Chii thought wryly as Creol’s eyes widened almost unnoticeably.

“Oh please,” Blu settled for words again, and Chii could have sworn for a moment that she could hear the hint of an accent that Blu hadn’t had in nearly eight years now, “at least Spanish makes _sense,_ English is so weird- it’s an amalgamation of different languages.” Without missing a beat, Blu gasped in mock horror, his posture changing to match the new mockingly-apologetic tone. “Oops, sorry,” he started, his voice dripping venom that made Chii glad she could not see whatever expression he was making towards Creol. “I forgot- bimbos don’t understand big words like amalgamation!”

Her flush deepened and Chii felt a sudden, unexplainable urge to laugh. She had no doubt that she wasn’t the only one. “I will-” Creol started, presumably in a threat, but suddenly their teacher was there, and whatever urge Chii had to laugh was gone just like that.

“That’s enough, you two!” Mr. Smith _almost_ yelled. “Act your age, all of you!”

_All of who?_

“Sorry, Mr. Smith,” Spring immediately started, pulling Blu back towards them. The blue rabbit didn’t fight him, allowing himself to rejoin the group. “Won’t happen again.”

“We’ll see about that,” Blu muttered, but no one acknowledged his words. Chii noticed Alfred glare slightly at him, though.

“Get back to work, everyone,” Mr. Smith commanded, glaring around at everyone. Mr. “Salvage, Mr. Fischbach, if you need to go home and change clothes, you’re excused.” The instructor turned to look at all of the students, eyes critical as they landed on Jones. “No more accidents, Mr. Jones.”

“R-right, got it,” the fox stuttered out nervously.

Apparently satisfied, Mr. Smith turned his attention towards the other chicken in the room, and Chii was _so_ glad that she herself was not the one having to face that glare. “Ms. Sanchez, secure your backerboard properly, and Ms. Creol, _easels are not for leaning!_ You break it, you pay the damages fee, got it? Mr. Fazbear, get that smirk off your face, and Ms. Sanchez, whatever you’re about to say; _don’t.”_

With that over and done with, Chii turned back to her own easel, carefully twirling the inky paintbrush between her fingers. The class seemed to slowly come back alive, but no voice broke through the tense air in the room. Instead, they all continued sketching and inking, filling out the negative space on their “canvas.”

The air was heavy. Chii wished it was breakfast time again.

* * *

Charlie was sitting outside on a lawn chair when Spring pulled up to the curb.

Fighting the urge to ask Spring to continue down the road, she glanced around at her three friends in the car, their eyes gazing towards the rooster nervously. Spring fidgeted and tapped on the steering wheel, a frown tugging at his lips in displeasure.

The rooster stood up from his chair and walked across the lawn, stopping next to the malibu and peering in critically. He crossed his arms impatiently, raising a brow at Chii, and Chii grimaced and turned back to her friends.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Chii murmured to Spring, Blu, and Mangle as she opened the door. She slid out, pulling her bookbag up securely onto her shoulder.

She didn’t get a chance to close the door as Charlie suddenly grabbed it, stopping its momentum.

“Were you with these three last night?” Charlie asked calmly, raising a brow towards the males and Mangle inside the car.

“Yes,” Chii answered tightly, and without even considering it added, “We were working on a project and all got stuck at Spring’s house in the storm. Didn’t have signal.”

“We figured it’d be better to be safe and miss curfew than try and get home and get sick or dead,” Mangle added smoothly, smiling politely. Chii could see in their eyes that right then, chicken didn’t sound like a bad idea for dinner.

She resisted both the smirk and the shudder.

“The roads were flooded, Mr. Daiz,” Spring explained, giving the adult a pinched smile. “Dark, flooded roads, and heavy rain- not something you want a seventeen-year-old highschooler walking _or_ driving in, right? Don’t worry- she slept in my sister’s room,” he added, though it was a lie. It was a lie they commonly told Chii’s parents; her mother didn’t really care one way or another, except about her own reputation and how Chii’s... actions would affect it, but Charlie...

Charlie didn’t like people touching what he believed belonged to him. Unfortunately, that included Chii.

Unfortunately, they also couldn’t just explain that they were like siblings... or that none of them were interested in girls.

Or that Chii _was._

Those were things men like Charlie Daiz just didn’t understand, who couldn’t even play the part of father for a year without sexualizing her.

She grimaced, but thankfully she was now behind her step-father so he didn’t catch her expression. Her friends, however, certainly did.

“Well at least you three have _some_ propriety,” Charlie muttered, eying them suspiciously. Blu frowned and quickly turned away, and Spring’s own eyes seemed to darken at the hypocrisy of the rooster’s words.

Honestly, Chii noted, it looked like Spring was struggling with himself to _not_ just deck the rooster.

“I expect a phone call next time,” Charlie warned, slamming the door shut and turning to Chii. “Inside, now. You worried your mother, you know.”

Frowning, Chii turned around and headed inside the house. Of course she knew she hadn’t worried her mother- her mother probably hadn’t even noticed her absence- but she also knew she couldn’t say anything. That was Charlie’s excuse for being short and mad, for the nosy neighbors peeking over the bushes.

If they thought they were being sneaky, she mused bitterly, they were sorely wrong.

As soon as she was inside, the door closed- not quite slammed, but close- harshly and she winced, glancing over at Charlie.

“Charlotte,” he growled, “I told you I don’t want you hangin’ ‘round them boys.”

“They’re my friends and my classmates,” Chii told him, frowning. “We had a project, I told you.”

“No more goin’ to guys’ houses,” he warned, his hand coming down heavily on Chii’s shoulder. “Am I understood?”

If there was one thing Chii hated, it was _this._

“Alright,” she agreed, though it was a total lie. “From now on we’ll go to Vivien’s house,” she told him, knowing he’d assume the name _Vivien_ to be _Vivian._ It was times like this she was _very_ glad Mangle’s name was just as androgynous as their appearance; Charlie had always assumed Mangle, with their pink and white fur and makeup, was a girl. “And their parents will be there the whole time,” she added, frowning. “They work from home.”

It was a complete lie, but it wasn’t the first time she had to use Charlie’s ideals about gender and gender roles to her advantage. He had always assumed Blu was a girl as well, up until around eighth grade when the girls began really... _developing._

_Leave it to dirty ol’ Charlie to eye fourteen year old girls’ chests._

Her step-father was looking at her critically. He didn’t dare try anything, not with Chii’s mother just one room over, but she could feel his eyes on her even as she turned and headed down the hall to her bedroom.

“I better not catch you with that yellow rabbit again, Charlotte.”

She had to bite her tongue to keep from correcting _gold rabbit, thank you very much,_ and quickly she shoved her bedroom door closed. Immediately, she dropped her bags on the floor next to her door and kicked her shoes off, letting out a heavy sigh.

_Not even home for three minutes and I miss them._

The loneliness and fear twisting in her stomach was almost debilitating. She fell heavily onto her bed, making some of her stuffies bounce up and a few even fell onto the floor between the bed and the wall, and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Pulling up the group chat, she sent, _‘Be safe please.’_

She didn’t wait for a response; Spring was driving and Blu and Mangle both had their own problems to deal with, and Alfred was busy. Dropping her phone on her bedside table, she turned over to face the wall and wrapped her arms around a few puppies there. It was comforting.

It was the closest thing she would get to being safe inside that house.

Footsteps in the hallway, a voice calling out to Charlie, a smooth-voiced response, words full of love, words full of lies.

Chii hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what happened in November yet, I'll be shocked.
> 
> Also, it's not the only thing that happened in November.


End file.
